A Clean Glide

The kick scooter leaned against the low brick rail, wheels aligned toward the gentle asphalt slope. Silence. Five slow counts to read the tilt. One coiled spring brought my front toes squarely onto the coarse grip tape. A sudden, deliberate thrust with my left foot against the smooth concrete. The polyurethane wheels hummed to life. Forward. Cool air rushed against my chest. The board shuddered over an expansion crack, sending a sharp vibration straight through my joints. I dropped low, absorbing the jolt into my knees. Balance held firm. The glide carried me four smooth yards before settling to a stop beside the grass. A fast, clean run.