Terrace Sovereignty

Slipping out past the ground-floor gate, I hitched a smooth ride across the block on the wire basket of a cruiser bike. Now perched on a sunny bistro table, I claimed the best seat available: the ribbed metal lid of a glass sugar dispenser. A bold sparrow fluttered down onto the table, eyeing a stray pastry crumb right next to me. Without even taking my hands from my pockets, I casually tipped a silver teaspoon off the napkin holder with my boot heel. It clattered against a ceramic saucer with a sharp chime, sending the bird scrambling mid-air. Complete composure, as always.