A Spark on the Rug
My joints clicked. Wait, I can bend? Right next to me sat two spacemen chilling by a tiny campfire. No alarm, just total stillness under yellowish ceiling lights. I swung my arm forward and tapped the translucent flame piece. Solid plastic, completely cool to the touch. Guess nobody is burning their gloves tonight. I planted both feet firmly into the carpet fiber, ready to scout.

