A Calculated Passage

Remaining upon the desk had served its purpose; further observation required descending to the floor. I navigated down by stepping along the graduated spines of three upright encyclopedias resting on the carpet below. Near the baseboard, the cast-iron ventilation register lay flat, its patterned ironwork forming a series of narrow geometric rectangles. Through the slats rose a steady, warm updraft that caught the hem of my fabric cape. Rather than retreat, I stepped onto the cold metal frame, using the weight of my rigid base to anchor my position while raising the translucent flame. The draft fluttered the textile continuously, yet my stance remained immovable.