Across the Varnish

The polished hardwood floor had no grit or gravel to bite into. Stepping off the edge of the woven runner rug, I tested the smooth varnish under the flat of my boot—it offered almost zero friction. With no garden drafts to brace against, I lowered my center of gravity and pushed off into a sudden glide. My boots skimmed silently across the honey-colored timber for several paces, trailing narrow twin tracks through the light noon sheen before I eased to a halt against a heavy brass floor vent. Gliding over indoor terrain is swift and silent; ground speed here is unmatched.