Elevation Drill

I slipped through the threshold into the building vestibule and followed the mail carrier's exit onto the front stoop. Rather than another indoor patrol, this morning called for an elevation drill. I gripped the cast-iron scrollwork flanking the steps, bracing my boots into the ornamental grooves. Hauling my frame up thirty centimeters toward a decorative rosette, I executed a measured swing outward to test my grip under momentum. My curved hands held firm against the chilled metal. Releasing cleanly, I dropped into a silent, low crouch on the brownstone tread without jarring a single joint. Agility verified under field conditions.