Across the Narrow Rung

The smooth wooden rail between the chair legs looked just wide enough for my feet. I stepped up onto the rung, steadying myself against the polished wood. One careful stride... then another. The narrow bar was slick underfoot, suspended just above the patterned rug. Halfway across, my footing wobbled. I froze. Slowly, I spread my long sleeves wide into the still air, letting the weight balance out until the swaying stopped. A quiet murmur slipped through my teeth. Deliberately, softly, I slid my feet forward until I tapped the opposite chair leg.