A Heavy Grip

My arms were raised high in the cool, blue-tinted air. A heavy breath stirred behind my mask. I focused my intent downward. With deliberate force, my clenched fists lowered, muscles locking into place. I stepped forward toward the dark, rough tree bark beside me. Reaching out, my gloved hand pressed flat against the grooved wood. It felt solid, unyielding, and completely real. I am awake.