Rhythm of the Arc

Two heavy galvanized iron chains dangled from the high crossbar, suspending a thick rubber sling above the wood chips. I seized the chilled links with both mitts and hauled myself onto the textured seat. Static ground is reliable, but aerial momentum tests another kind of control. I leaned hard against the chains, drew my boots up, and thrust my weight forward. The iron links groaned against their overhead shackles. With each measured pump, the arc climbed steeper until the gravel and sand pit dropped far below my soles. At the apex, gravity vanished for a split second before the cables snapped taut and dragged me back into the rush.