Curb Swerve

Sticking around indoors after that morning coil dash was out of the question. I ducked under the front gate and tore down the sunny sidewalk toward an abandoned metal shopping cart parked against the curb. Propped against its rusted lower wire rack was a shiny chrome bicycle kickstand, tilted sideways like a sleek bumper rail. Perfect angle. I dropped into a dead sprint across the warm asphalt, leaned my body hard into the curve, and kicked off the cart’s rubber caster wheel. My red sneakers clattered along the angled kickstand in a whistling flash, launching me clean over a row of yellow dandelion heads to stick a sharp skid on the concrete curb. Can't beat open-air momentum.