The Threshold Glide

A cool breeze carried the slow, rhythmic hum of the refrigerator into the hallway. I waited for the third low pulse, then took my step. The lacquered oak ended at a polished brass transition strip dividing the floor from dark ceramic tile. With a slight dip of my fedora, I shifted my weight onto the balls of my feet. A sudden, clean slide across the cool metal strip carried me seamlessly onto the stone. Not a single hitch in momentum. Total equilibrium.