Claiming the High Ground

A parked bicycle blocked the curb line, its heavy steel pedal hanging idle just above the asphalt. Exactly the high ground I needed. I jammed my boots into the thick grooved rubber of the tire, hauled my weight upward, and vaulted onto the serrated metal pedal. The crank held dead firm without a creak. From up here, the entire length of the sidewalk stretches out clear, morning pedestrians pounding past completely blind to what's watching them. I drove the tip of my blade into the pedal's reflector bracket to lock my footing. Let the crowd shuffle. The vantage point is mine.