A Slanted Foothold

A wooden knife block stood angled near the cutting board, its heavy beech frame tilted at a sharp diagonal. I assessed the narrow slits holding the handles before testing the lower timber with my silver staff. The solid wood did not yield. Bracing the pole firmly against the laminate counter to stabilize my ascent, I swung onto the lowermost wooden ledge, catching my balance on the flat brass rivets of a chef's knife handle. The steel beneath was cool and unyielding. Lowering my center of gravity, I held steady, letting the disciplined silence of the kitchen settle around me.