Down the Canopy

The taut fabric of the closed umbrella sloped down like a steep, dark slide. I paused at the top, testing the smooth nylon with both palms. It was cool and completely slick. Bracing my heels against the narrow fold between two wire ribs, I let go. The descent was quick—a soft whisper against the cloth as I glided straight down the taper. My bare feet skimmed off the polished metal ferrule, landing neat and firm on the canvas pouch below. Looking back up at the tall ceramic rim, the dizzy rush made me want to climb straight back up.