A Silent Shift

Darkness. Stillness. Then, a pulse of movement through my joints. I did not rush. I remained seated against the frosted plastic support, assessing the terrain. The ledge beneath me was hard, dusty timber. Slowly, I extended my right gloved hand downward, pressing two fingertips firmly against the wood grain. It gave no resistance. Solid ground. I tilted my brim slightly to widen my view of the shadow, planted both boots flat, and held my position in the quiet night.