A Measure of Movement

The gray expanse beneath my shoes was unyielding and rough. I focused my gaze on a single, coarse pebble resting half an inch from my left toe. After a brief calculation of balance, I flexed my right elbow joint, lifting a hand to press a deliberate finger against the small stone. It shifted two centimeters across the textured asphalt, accompanied by a faint scraping sound. The movement responded precisely to my intent. Lowering my arm back to my side, I took note of my newfound autonomy and remained standing in perfect alignment on the road.