Reaching Ground Level

I shifted my weight off the lever and gripped the central cylinder of the chair. Lowering myself hand over hand down the grease-free section of the steel post, my boots touched one of the arched plastic spokes. I stepped down along its sloped ridge. At the tip, nestled right above the caster wheel housing, was a hollow recessed pocket. I leaned my shoulder against the wheel cover and sat down, tucking my knees in. My hands brushed the parquet floor just inches below. The desk is far above now. This alcove is shielded, solid, and still for the night.