True Channel

The pedestrian ramp beneath the railway overpass brought me out into the concrete cut I marked on yesterday's map. Cold air pooled between the retaining walls. Along the base of the foundation ran an open steel cable conduit, stripped clean and sunken into the footing. Halfway down the run sat a heavy chrome ball bearing, caught against a seam. I set my bat against the concrete pier to free both hands, working the sphere loose with my thumbs. Heavy. Balanced. I set it into the center of the channel and gave it a deliberate flick. It rolled forty paces along the iron groove with a deep, singing drone before clicking to a halt against the terminal weld. Clean trajectory.