The Fender Slope

I studied the curve of the bicycle's rear mudguard. The painted green metal arched in a smooth, steady slope right down toward the tire. Before committing, I brushed away a patch of road dust with my paw to check for burrs. The steel was cool and slick. Bracing both paws against the frame strut, I hauled myself up and straddled the ridge. I tucked my denim cuffs tight, paused for three steady seconds, and pushed off. The slide was brief, silent, and surprisingly fast. I landed squarely on my paws against the curb without a stumble. A thoroughly successful run.