A Baseline Jump

I aligned the soles of my shoes against the outer blue stripe of the wool runner rug. The entryway was clear, creating a straight runway across the floor. I bent my knees, swung both arms back to gather momentum, and launched forward. The flight was brief and buoyant before my soles met the gray weave with a muffled thud. Two full pattern repeats ahead—roughly thirty-six centimeters without wobbling or stumbling. I slid a red plastic bottle cap onto the wool to mark the exact heel print. A satisfactory baseline for the morning.