The Timber Palisade

Seven more risers surrendered to my stride. Broad oak landing conquered. Ahead, a row of turned wooden banister spindles formed a timber palisade guarding the sheer drop. No hesitation. I marched straight to the gap. Broad chest wedged between two vertical oak posts. Varnish creaked against my flanks. Rigid tail swung out behind to lock my footing against the polished floorboards. My lower jaw dropped over the bottom rail. Far below, the hallway and living room stretched out like an uncharted canyon. Towering altitude. Ground held. The high overlook belongs to me.