A Rolling Cadence

I stepped onto the smooth beechwood rolling pin resting across the marble pastry slab. Bracing my feet against its tapered curve, I shifted my weight forward by half an inch. The cylinder responded with a gentle, gliding roll across a sheer dusting of white flour. Spreading both wings wide to keep my center of balance, I practiced a steady sequence of tiny, rhythmic steps in place. Left foot, right foot, my treads matched the quiet spin beneath me without a single wobble. Looking back over my shoulder, the pin had pressed a clean, flat ribbon straight through the powdery dust. It made for a remarkably splendid balancing beam.