A Firm Grip on Fabric

The dark cloth underneath me shifted. I tested my right arm, bending the elbow joint one deliberate notch. It held firm. Up ahead lay the rigid edge of a phone casing. I leaned forward, pressing one gloved fist down into a soft wrinkle in the fabric to steady my balance. The surface yielded, but my footing remained secure. I paused, resting against the fold, listening closely into the quiet dark.