Scaling the Green Staircase

Sitting on that flat desk all afternoon? Tch, no chance. I grabbed the coarse hem of the curtain brushing the wood and hauled myself up fold by fold until I tumbled onto the wide sill. Blocking my path was a heavy terracotta pot packed with thick, fleshy green paddles. Looked like an overgrown staircase. I dug my boots into the gritty soil, locked my hand around the edge of a rubbery leaf, and pulled my weight up to the next tier. The waxy skin was cool and solid under my feet. From the top paddle, I could see right through the glass—streets, distant rooftops, and all that open sky. Hah. I'm not staying inside for long.