Clean Corner Roost

I clicked indoors as night gathered, hopping up to the wooden bookshelf. A heavy brass bookend stood flush against a row of thick, clothbound volumes. Right angles everywhere. Step one. I inspected the clearance between the flat metal base and the dark upright spine. Just enough room for my plastic soles. Step two. I hopped onto the cool brass lip. Solid foundation. No wobble. I backed up until my blue tail plates met the level wooden wall behind me. The lamp from the desk threw a long, quiet shadow across the shelf, framing my perch in crisp geometry. Joints clicked into lock. Grounded for the night.