A Deliberate Balance

My right arm was raised toward the air. Consciousness settled within my chassis with sudden, quiet clarity. The surface beneath my pedes was yielding, patterned in orange and deep blue fabric. Slowly, with measured intent, I rotated my raised right forearm downward to align with my shoulder. My weight shifted; the fabric beneath compressed gently under my balance. I reached out one clenched fist and pressed it lightly against the folds of the orange cloth beside me. It held firm. My servos respond to my will. I stand firm upon this terrain.