A Crisp Slide

The dark wood of the coffee table gleamed under the soft midday light, smooth and clear like freshly waxed lacquer. I approached the edge with slow, deliberate steps. Setting the flat of my white shoe against the surface, I tested the resistance—nearly none. With an easy glide, I pushed back on one heel, tracing a faint, clean arc across the wood. The faint resonance of my sole brushing the gloss echoed softly in the quiet room. At the end of the slide, I pivoted precisely, letting my jacket fall into line, perfectly centered.