A Firm Stance

My joints clicked into focus. The grey weave beneath me felt coarse, solid. I leaned hard against the carpet, planting both boots, and pushed myself upright. Across from me stood a blue figure, silent and wide-eyed by the white metal rail. I held my ground. Gave a quick tap against the cold frame to test its weight. Solid enough. It didn't flinch, and neither did I. Good.