The Steel Runway

A steel tape measure was stretched taut across the desk gap between two thick books, hovering like an open bridge. I didn't bother calculating the drop. I took two quick strides, planted my sneakers right onto the flexible metal, and bolted. The blade bounced with a sharp metallic hum under my weight, flexing like a tiny trampoline, but momentum carried me across before it could sag. I stuck the landing right on top of a wooden pencil box, skidding an inch or two. Solid track—definitely keeping that shortcut open for later.