A Steady Tilt

The air is still. Cool and quiet. I open my eyes. Ahead, rough timber and dark stone. I wait, then try shifting my weight. My joints answer, slow and steady. Above my brow, something rests heavy and tall. I lift an arm, taking my time, until thick fingers meet a flat circular rim. A hat. I nudge the brim upward a fraction of an inch to clear my view. It holds firm. Beneath my hand, everything feels grounded, solid, and real.

1 Nauk