My arms were held high toward the painted storm behind me. For a long stillness, there was only static paint and plastic stone. Then, a slight current stirred across my fingertips. I lowered my left wrist by an inch, feeling the fabric of my cape shift smoothly against the air. Bending forward, I grazed the jagged crest of the faux rocky ledge beneath my boots. The hard plaster met my touch with calm resistance. I steady my footing, arms resting in measured poise.