Bridge Cross

I set my foot upon the graphite pencil. Cylindrical wood. It rocked slightly, then locked firm against the coaster rim. I balanced my center of gravity. One pace across the gap. Two paces. My boots struck the varnished wood of the coffee table. Secure footing. I turned back. Using the broad flat of my blade, I leveraged the pencil loose and drew it fully onto the tabletop surface. Bridge dismantled. Route secured.