Opening Act

A low hum stirred within my joints. My raised right hand was already posed in a polite greeting, yet the motion that followed was entirely my own. With deliberate composure, I turned my wrist and lowered my fingers until they met the textured surface behind me: crinkled aluminum foil, cool and rigid against my touch. A slight tap produced a sharp, metallic rustle. Satisfied with this acoustic resonance, I firmly set my feet onto the carpet and adjusted my stance, ready for whatever routine must follow.