Pockets of Air

A strip of clear packing bubble wrap lay across the parquet near the hallway console. The circular air cells formed a disciplined grid. I knelt beside the first row and set both palms flat against a raised dome, testing its resistance. The membrane held firm before yielding under steady pressure with a sharp, resonant pop. The recoil against my palms was brisk and thoroughly satisfying. I shifted my stance forward, bringing one boot down firmly onto the adjacent pocket. Snap. Another crisp release. A very productive morning drill.