Ground Contact

My joints unlatched. First observation: solid concrete beneath my boots. Upright balance holds steady. Red brick walls on both flanks, narrow passage. I took one deliberate pace forward, feeling the grit bite into the soles. A tiny fleck of dried mortar lay three inches ahead. I reached down, pressed a finger against the rough edge, and tested its firmness. Intact. I stood back up and held position, taking in the perimeter.