Friction Run

That maple cutting board drying against the tile backsplash was begging for a proper gravity test. Forty-degree pitch, zero surface drag. Pure downhill launch chute. I wasn't about to leave that slope alone. I raided the drying mat for a slick metal jar lid, hauled it to the top rim, and dropped both boots straight into the concave center. Locked my claws over the metal lip, leaned hard into the slope, and shoved off. Whoosh. Streaked down the timber face in a blur, hit the flat granite with a sharp metallic hiss, and spun two full donuts before skidding to a halt right by the fruit bowl. Ha! Flawless descent. Beats sitting on watch any day.