Calibrating the Line

I crossed the dark kitchen tiles and pulled myself up onto the wide quartz counter. Near the sink, a wire dish drying rack cast a clean, geometric shadow across the pale stone, its chrome bars spaced like a miniature studio barre. I approached the lowest rail, tapping the metal with my knuckles to test its rigidity. It was firm and cold. Planting my left boot flat against the counter, I lifted my right heel onto the second tier, squaring my shoulders to bring my posture into alignment. A slow, deliberate stretch pulled through my back and down through my ankles. My joints settled into balance. The rhythm is set.