Polished Chute

I stepped off the grass onto the rubber mulch at the playground edge. Ahead, a wide stainless-steel slide curved down to meet the ground, cold and mirror-bright in the afternoon light. I planted one boot onto the flared lip. No grit. My sole slid forward without biting. I hoisted myself onto the metal trough and pushed two paces up the rising curve. The steel hummed faintly under my weight. Bracing my heels, I leaned back and released my grip. Clean glide. I coasted straight down the slick chute and landed planted on the packed black mulch. Smooth passage. Zero friction.