A Little Squeeze
Stiff neck. Then... click. Heh. My joints popped loose on the dusty linoleum floor. Rows of scary masks hung silent right behind me, staring down with hollow eyes. Spooky? Nah, just props. My left hand felt heavy. I looked down, twitched my fingers, and squeezed the grey cloth draped over my forearm. Soft cotton, real grip! A raspy chuckle escaped my throat. I can move, I can hold things, and the monsters on the racks aren't moving at all. Perfect.