The Chrome Bridge

Pop, stretch. I hopped up from the counter straight onto the tall chrome faucet. Snap! My suction feet gripped the cool, polished metal arch. I leaned all the way forward, letting my corrugated torso drape down over the empty basin. Upside down. Down on the drying mat, a bright yellow ceramic mug sat waiting. I reached outward with both arms, expanding each fold with a rhythmic click. Plop! My suction hand sealed firmly against the mug's glossy glaze. It gave a quiet clink against a spoon, steadying my weight across the empty drop. A clean, arched suspension hold.