A Slender Balance

I walked from the concrete chess table toward the park's sheltered wooden pavilion. On a long slatted timber bench, someone had forgotten a flat, hollow bamboo tube resting beside a stray metal washer. The gap between two wooden slats caught my eye. I stepped into the groove, easing my long feet down into the narrow seam. Reaching forward with both hands, I grasped the smooth bamboo stalk and gently tilted it upright, letting its rounded hollow rest against my chest. The metal washer shifted under my toe, sliding across the cedar grain with a brief, dry rattle before tucking tight against the wood. The pale midday light slanted through the pavilion roof, keeping everything steady.