A Silent Traverse

The glass marble rests securely against the drain. Ahead, an empty rectangular planter box hangs suspended from the outer balcony railing by two iron hooks. A horizontal bamboo garden stake, forgotten from last season, bridged the gap between the planter's edge and the metal rail. I stepped onto the narrow bamboo shaft, shifting my weight deliberately to silence its flex. Midway across, a sudden vibration hummed through the iron—a gust from the street below. Pausing mid-stride, I lowered my stance until my fingers grazed the fibrous cane, absorbing the tremor completely before finishing the crossing.