A Clean Pivot

The stairwell exit door gave way to the open courtyard, and the morning air immediately felt vast. Walking past the heavy threshold, my bare soles encountered a loose river pebble bed bordering the perimeter walkway. A discarded wooden ice cream paddle lay wedged between two larger stones at an uneven slant. Stepping off the paved concrete, I planted both feet firmly across the paddle's flat birch surface. The stones beneath shifted with a dull clatter, threatening my balance. I dropped my hips low, braced my core, and rotated on the ball of my forward foot. The paddle smoothed into the gravel bed, holding level and still.

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