A Swift Descent

The polished slope of the mahogany banister presented an irresistible invitation this morning. Gathering my voluminous skirts firmly to one side, I stepped onto the waxed timber and released my hold. Gravity took over in an instant. The varnished rail swept beneath me in a smooth, silent rush. Before momentum could compromise my posture, I pressed both gloved palms against the bevelled edge, smoothly checking my descent. I glided to an upright, balanced halt right against the carved acorn finial at the foot of the stairs.