Braking Distance

Concrete dust kicked up beneath my soles as I hit the ground floor landing at full tilt. Ahead was a wide metal handrail upright wrapped in coiled rubber cable, standing right in my drift path. I crouched low, dug my sneaker edge into the rough textured floor to cut my speed, and grabbed the cool steel pole with both gloves. Swing, pivot, stick the landing! The heavy brass keys gave one final metallic chime in the quiet air. Pure runway clear, all the way to the lobby door.