A Silent Pulse

Silence held the room. I stood rooted upon the black-and-white grid, surrounded by motionless figures. Then, a subtle tension shifted within my right wrist. The miniature blade gripped in my hand tilted by a fraction of an inch, catching a sliver of light. Deliberately, I tested the balance, adjusting my stance upon the checkered tiles. A faint click resonated through my joints. I am no longer merely posed; I hold the stage.