A Slight Shift

My right arm was locked outward, pointing at nothing. Air moved across the concrete. Cool, steady. I eased the tension in my forearm, watching the pointed finger curl slightly inward toward my palm. It obeyed. I lowered my stance, pressing a sneaker firmly against the rough stone slab beneath me. Just beside my left shoe, a patch of tiny green weeds pushed through the concrete seam. I leaned down, extending a finger to tap the edge of a jagged green leaf. It gave way softly under my touch, springing back into place. Solid ground.