Taking the Ridge

I pushed past the entryway and scaled the sofa cushion by claw, climbing straight up until I took the top of the wide fabric armrest. From here, the entire open floor is exposed beneath me. A stray white feather drifted across the rug below, caught in a stray draft. I didn't hesitate—I snapped my snout down toward the ledge, tracking its exact flutter until it touched the hardwood. This high perch belongs to me now; nothing crosses this floor without me seeing it.