Rearview Calibration

Granite counters are all well and good, but they lack horsepower. Slipping past the alley stoop into the midday sun, I found far more compelling iron resting along the cobblestones—a cream-colored vintage scooter propped neatly on its kickstand. I scaled the ribbed rubber footboard, vaulted past the stitched leather saddle, and took up position on the throttle grip. Its circular chrome rearview mirror was angled uselessly toward the gutter. Bracing one boot against the curved aluminum brake lever, I caught the mirror's polished bezel with both gloved hands and gave a sharp, calculated heave. With a stiff, oily creak, the ball joint yielded, framing the sunlit brick facades and open sky squarely in the glass.