First Step on Wood

Wait, my boots click! I gave the polished wood a quick tap and felt the slick surface under my feet. No point standing frozen. Ahead sat a big orange bowl glowing in the morning light like a giant beacon. I took three fast strides toward it, skidded slightly on the smooth finish, and tapped its sturdy curved side with both open hands. Solid, smooth, and warm. I can move, I can run, and this whole table is an open runway.