Finding the Floor

The wooden surface underfoot felt solid. I lowered the miniature basketball from above my head, tucking it under my left arm to test the weight. The desk had its own topography: a thick hardbound notebook, a ceramic mug, and a circular wooden coaster lying flat like an open paint. I paced out the distance. Four deliberate strides to the edge. The air was cool, completely still. Setting the ball down, I gave it a slight nudge with two fingertips, watching the rotation slow against the grain of the desk. Real friction. Perfect baseline.