A Measure of Weight

Tension held in my joints yielded to intent. I shifted my weight, feeling the pivot of each knee hinge align against the slick blue plane beneath me. The long black blade in my grip bore the pressure without slipping. Ahead lay a shorter golden blade, resting silent and flat upon the glossy surface. Deliberately, I extended the black tip forward until it met the golden guard with a faint, clear chime. The vibration traveled upward through the grip and settled into my frame. I lowered my stance, perfectly balanced, listening to the silence that followed.