Airborne Traverse

A fresh gust swept across the balcony railing, carrying my focus toward the metal drying rack set out in the sun. I crouched, timed the breeze, and vaulted from the concrete ledge onto a suspended wooden clothespin. It tipped under my impact, swinging sharply. Without hesitation, I dropped into a dynamic low squat to absorb the sway, one hand gripping the wire cord while my boots held the grooved wood. The wind pressed hard, but my center stayed unyielding. A solid drill in midair.