Balance

I reach up high, all my weight on the tips of my toes, fingers feeling furtively for the ever elusive object hiding at the back of the shelf. I stretch up up up, fingertips brushing the cold metal surface, finally pinching it between two fingers, gripping as tight as i can before it slips away again, and drop down flat on my feet, pulling the shiny object close to my chest.

I grip it tight as I tip toe out of the room, carefully retracing my steps to avoid the trigger points on the floor and walls. I pause quickly when the door slides closed behind me to catch up my breath, pulling it even closer to my chest. I can feel it humming, vibrating through my chest bone. I dance across the cold flagstones down the narrow corridor, and slip out the open door at the end.

I pull my hands away from my chest to catch a quick glimpse. All I can see is my smiling distorted reflection in the smooth silver surface. Grip it tight again, step away from the building and unfurl my wings and fly straight up over the rooftop and mountains beyond.

It is done, I tell her quietly when I land on the narrow ledge outside her window. It is done.

 

 

 

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I am not participating in NaNoWriMo this year, but will be trying a short writing every day, following the prompts from  https://www.patreon.com/thequietsun