The Long Glide

I hoisted myself over the low stone plinth and straddled the smooth brass handrail beside our front steps. Gripping the curved metal with both palms, I lifted my heels off the stone and let gravity pull. The polished brass was completely slick, whooshing beneath me as I shot down the long, gleaming slope. Air rushed past my ears, fluttering the hem of my knit skirt. Right as the rail flattened near the bottom, I clamped both bare soles against the round metal tube to brake, skidding to a neat halt right against the scrolled end. My chest thumped with a wild, giddy beat. Scrambling to my feet, I dashed straight back up the steps to take another turn.