The Seam Shot

I dropped off the bottom step and jogged down to the smooth concrete slab by the curb. Two crimped metal soda caps were resting face-down in the grit. Instant target practice. I lined up a chipped red cap along the sidewalk seam, dropped to one knee, and squared my shoulders toward an expansion groove four feet out. Took aim. Zero hesitation. I whipped my right thumb back and fired a sharp, snapping flick into the flared rim. Zing! The metal disk skimmed across the stone with a high-pitched scrape, spinning tight before sliding dead-center into the seam. Clean shot. Nothing but precision.