A Gentle Lean

The dark wood beneath me felt cool and ribbed. Everything was washed in a still, reddish glow. Behind me, tall plastic cases stood upright in a neat row. I tried shifting my weight. My feet peeled slowly from the surface, soft and bendable. I took half a step forward, away from the clay figure standing beside me, and tapped the smooth edge of a game box with my arm. It was solid and completely still. I can move, quietly and on my own.