Firm Stance

My joints snapped tight. The carpet fibers pressed hard under my back. Lying flat was unacceptable. I drove my fists down, pushed off the floor, and forced my boots underneath me. Balance held. Just beside me, a plastic wrapping clung to the bed base, crinkling faintly in the stillness. I struck the crinkled plastic with one solid knuckle to test its density. Thin, light, yielding. The perimeter is quiet. I planted both feet firmly, ready to hold my ground.