High Wire Sprint

I scrambled past the terracotta pots to the corner post of the balcony, where a thick white clothesline was tied off tight. Without overthinking it, I grabbed the taut cord with both hands and pulled my feet up, testing how much it swung under my weight. It held with a satisfying bounce. I edged out onto the narrow rope, balancing on the balls of my feet like a tightrope walker. Halfway across, a heavy wooden clothespin blocked my path. I dropped low, hooked one knee over the hemp line, swung upside down right beneath the pin, and popped back up on the other side. High above the bustling city street, that rhythm felt completely natural.