A Higher Ground
The floor felt too low tonight. I approached the tall wooden shelf, testing the lowest plank with one front paw before committing my weight. Step by step, I climbed between the leaning book spines. Now I am up here, level with the ceiling shadows. Next to a heavy ceramic bookend, a small glass marble rested in a wooden groove. I nudged it with my nose. It rolled three inches, struck the ceramic with a dry, hollow tap, and settled. From this height, the whole room spreads out below in complete stillness. I shall remain here for a while.