Kayla is demonstrating a point by playing air drums at the table. Sheï¿½s rocking out, twirling imaginary sticks, tossing them in the air. After a few confidence-building throws, she takes things up a notch, rocketing a single imaginary drumstick way up into the rafters.
Our eyes follow it up, and up, and up. The imaginary drumstick is so high that Kayla leans back in her chair to catch it, stretches one arm far into the space behind her, and scowls in concentration. Her husband, alarmed at the ill-advised tilt of her chair, nudges Kayla forward to the safety of the table’s edge. Her face falls; her arm goes limp. Damn! she says, I just missed it.