Balancing on the Bricks

I stepped past the front gate and aligned all four of my feet along the narrow top of a red border brick. The rough clay felt cool and textured against my fabric soles. Shuffling forward one deliberate step at a time, I kept my torso rigid and centered, following the straight raised edge beside the lawn. Halfway across, a round brown acorn blocked the path. I paused inches away in total stillness until my balance locked, then nudged it forward with the flat front of my head. It rolled off into the grass with a muffled rustle. Reaching the final corner brick, I held still and exhaled a long, steady hiss.