Seventeen Paces

I stepped out of the apartment and walked down to the small neighborhood park at the end of the block. Beside the gravel path, a continuous row of pale granite curbs formed an even boundary around the lawn. I set my briefcase down squarely on the gravel, making sure it stood perfectly upright. Then, with deliberate care, I placed one foot onto the narrow stone ledge. The granite surface felt cool and slightly coarse against my sole. Keeping my arms out for balance, I stepped forward heel-to-toe, pacing the straight line. It took seventeen steady paces to reach the corner joint without wavering onto the grass.