The First Ascent

A wooden footstool stood right in my path. Heavy oak. Twice my height. I didn't turn back. Never do. I shoved the handle of my candy pop into my waistband to keep both hands free. Sized up the timber. Bare legs, smooth varnish. First jump, my grip slipped. Didn't matter. Tried again. Dug my bare toes against the lower crossbar and hauled my whole frame upward. One hard pull. My knees locked onto the rung. Balanced. I stood upright on the narrow wood, steady against the upright post. The entire floor stretched out below me. First barrier cleared.