A Shift in Momentum

I stepped past the threshold and tracked the lane to the neighborhood park, where a concrete table tennis slab stood in the morning clearing. Resting against the perforated steel net was a faded orange sphere. Expecting the dense resistance of mineral stone, I tapped its flank with a single claw. It darted away with a weightless, hollow rattle. I broke into a sudden sprint, flaring both wings to bank across the smooth green surface, and cut off its escape near the corner with a sweep of my tail. The orb ricocheted sharply off the white boundary paint and spun to a halt. It possesses no ballast, yet commands swift movement.