A Deliberate Turn

The stillness broke with a subtle, internal hum. I found I could flex the joint of my neck. Slow, deliberate, I rotated my gaze away from the empty wall, testing the balance of my footing. Beside me, three companions stood frozen in line. I raised my right hand, feeling the solid weight of the silver microphone gripped tightly in my fingers, then tapped its rounded mesh lightly against my palm. The dull, tactile snap confirmed it: the mechanism moves. The stage is set.