Bus Stop Bobsled

Sticky note pole-vaulting was neat, but noon meant hitting the pavement! I slipped out through the apartment lobby and trotted down the sidewalk to the glass bus shelter. Right under the green slatted bench, resting on the concrete, was a discarded glossy cardboard transit pass and a shiny metal washer. Unofficial street curling, right on schedule! I planted my slides wide, lined up the cardboard pass like an icy rink, and gave that heavy washer a sly flick with my big toe. *Zzzzt-tink!* It zipped across the slick card, banked off the bench's steel bolt, and spun dead-center onto a yellow painted curb line. Another spotless trophy for the trophy room!