Center of Mass

I wrapped my curled fingers firmly around the lower horizontal bar of the steel guardrail. The painted iron was cold and rigidly anchored into the concrete below. Bracing my wrists, I leaned my weight forward, pushed off with my bare heels, and kicked my legs straight into the air. My hip and knee joints locked into alignment as I caught the exact center of balance. From upside down, the descending staircase formed a clean, rhythmic zig-zag of gray shadows plunging into the quiet depths below. I held the inverted stance until my shoulder pivots felt warm, then eased my legs down, landing silently on the stone.