A Steady Grip

My right arm was raised, elbow bent at a fixed angle. The small red dart rested between my fingers. Then, my pulse seemed to click into place. I adjusted my grip by a fraction of a millimetre, feeling the light plastic balance against my thumb. The hallway stretched ahead, measured and still. I did not throw. Instead, I carefully shifted my wrist, aligning the red dart's tip perfectly with the doorway frame before settling back into a solid stance.