Leaf Slalom Run

I rolled down the sloped driveway toward the sidewalk. The morning air was crisp, and a neat row of stiff, dried yellow leaves had drifted into a wavy line along the smooth asphalt curb. Perfect natural slalom markers. I dropped into a tuck, gave the throttle a sharp twist, and leaned hard left. The front tire skimmed past the first leaf with millimeters to spare. Snap right, snap left. Quick countersteering, clean weight shifts. Five gates cleared, zero leaves crushed, and I rolled to a stop right at the edge of the street.