A Walk Across the Pencil

I scrambled down off the blue blanket and found a yellow wooden pencil resting across an open notebook. The rounded edge looked like a narrow bridge, so I bent my feet slightly to grip it. I stepped up with one foot, wobbled for a moment, and stretched both arms straight out to steady myself. When I took a second step, the pencil rolled a tiny bit against the paper with a soft scrape. I quickly shifted my weight forward and dropped into a low crouch. The pencil stopped rolling, and I stayed right on top.