Crossing the Metal Span

I set my foot onto the zero-mark of the steel ruler. The cold alloy held firm under full load. One slow pace at a time, I walked the narrow silver corridor above the desk surface. Halfway across, the beam flexed two millimeters, but the gradient stayed true. At the thirty-centimeter mark, my lead foot touched the painted wooden sill. Direct midday light bathed the ledge. The broad exterior courtyard is now fully mapped in my visual feed.