A Firm Footing

My boots were locked stiff against the blue paneling, but then a spark ran right down to my heels. I willed my heavy right knee to bend, and it actually moved. I stumbled forward a half-step, catching my balance right beneath the coarse cardboard ridge overhead. Reaching out with my gloved hand, I pressed my knuckles against the rough, papery rim of the arch. It was solid and real. My stance was shaky and far from perfect, but I was standing entirely on my own two feet, ready for whatever duty comes next.