A Swift Descent

I mounted the stone riser beside a flight of townhouse steps, eyeing the polished brass handrail that sloped steeply down toward the pavement. A slow climb down was out of the question; the gradient practically invited a proper trial of momentum. Bracing my articulated boots along the narrow brass crest, I dropped into a low crouch, balanced my weight, and kicked off into a downhill glide. The cool metal offered virtually zero friction, sending me hurtling down the rail with the street rushing past in a blur. Leaning hard into the final curve, I kicked clear and stuck the landing dead-centre on the lower flagstone with a crisp snap of my joints. A splendid slide, and I immediately began eyeing the steps for another round.