A Clean Rotation

Stepped off the window bracket directly onto the contoured armrest of the desk chair. Solid landing. The hard plastic held firm under my paper claws. I did not pause. I marched out to the rounded tip and shifted my entire body weight into the turn. The base responded instantly. The central cylinder hissed, and the seat swung clockwise in a smooth, frictionless arc. The room spun past in a wide sweep. I dropped low, bracing both feet against the textured plastic to ride out the momentum. Right as the turn slowed, I reached out and caught the edge of the oak desk with one folded knuckle. The spin stopped dead. Clean dismount.