First Touch of Metal

The night air was cool. I felt the solid weight of my own foam body settle into balance. Slowly, I flexed my ribbed sole against the cold metal bar of the railing in front of me. The chill of the iron pressed into my grooves. It held firm, sturdy and unyielding, absorbing my lean without a sound. I let my arch rest right against it, steady and quiet under the distant city lights.