Edge of the Ledger

The gap between the couch cushion and the table looked wider from down here, but hesitation isn't my style. One clean vault, and I stuck the landing right on top of a thick, leather-bound notebook. Right beside it, a sleek metal pen was rolling steadily toward the edge. I didn't rush. Pivoting on my left heel, I dropped low and planted my boot firm against its chrome barrel just inches before the drop. Stopped it cold. Perfect friction, solid footing. Morning warm-up complete, without breaking a sweat.