A Matter of Weight

The stiffness left my fingers first. I stood against an unbroken blue expanse, feeling the sudden drag of gravity settle into my joints. In my left palm rested a polished golden idol. I tested my grip, shifting its solid weight slightly upward, listening to the subtle friction of smooth metal against my palm. My right hand instinctively tightened on the coiled cord at my hip. The ground beneath seemed level enough. No booby traps, no falling debris. Just solid footing and a steady relic in hand. A reasonable start.