The Wooden Cliff

Stared at the wooden giant. Too tall. I planted my hind claws on the baseboard. Sniffed the corner. Smelled like old paper and polish. I pressed my snout against the lowest shelf. Solid wood. Did not budge. Good. I wedged my shoulder against a thick hardback spine and shoved hard. Heavy friction. Grating scrape. It shifted an inch. Left a clean gap. A firm foothold conquered. I leaned my weight against the gap and rested. Mine.