A Steady Grip
The air was quiet. I stood on the narrow curve of a gray sofa armrest. Below my feet, the fabric was textured and firm. I shifted my weight forward. My boots responded, planting down with reassuring friction. Nearby, a patterned pillow sat upright against the wooden wall. I extended one arm and pressed my palm against the woven deer cushion to test the support. Solid. The foundation held steady, and my balance remained intact.