Balcony Flight Deck

The morning air was slipping right through the cracked balcony door, calling for an immediate perimeter breach. Slipping past the door seal, my boots clicked onto the concrete tiles of the outdoor terrace. Right inside the weathered cedar planter box, someone had left an unsharpened pastel yellow colored pencil resting across the rim of an empty terracotta flowerpot. Caught beneath its flat brass ferrule was a dry, translucent maple seed wing. Bracing my high-heeled boots against the gritty rim of the pot, I seized the wooden barrel with both hands and levered it up with a sharp, decisive twist. The dry seed pod popped free, spiraling into the brisk morning updraft like a miniature rotor blade. Sector launched, airspace cleared!