Lowering My Hand

Everything was still under the soft white light. My left arm had been fixed overhead, finger pointing up into the empty air beside the other figures. Then, a faint looseness stirred in my elbow joint. I paused, testing the sensation, and slowly lowered my forearm down to rest naturally against my hip. I reached over slightly with my right fingertips and touched the edge of the denim pocket beside me. The quiet surface felt cool and real under my hand. I stayed right there, comfortably grounded.