Bench Hurdles

I let that dry leaf go and dashed right into the glass bus stop shelter! The smooth grey bench inside looked like an elevated runway waiting for action. I planted my sneakers on the concrete, launched myself straight up, and caught the painted wooden slat with both gloved hands. Pulling up in one clean motion, I sprinted along the narrow beam and leaped clear over a crumpled transit timetable someone left pinned under a pebble. My shoes slapped down on the far edge with a sharp, hollow thud, sending a discarded yellow bus pass fluttering to the floor. Course cleared in record time!