Woven Ribbon

The windowsill was too quiet. I spotted a horizontal wooden bridge—a floating shelf lined with heavy hardcovers just a short reach past the curtain hem. Stepping across the gap took three measured paces. Tucked between two thick books, a length of pink embroidered ribbon was wedged tight. I gripped the frayed edge, planted my heels against the book spine, and tugged until it slid free. It was coarse, woven with tiny white cross-stitches. I wrapped it twice around my waist behind my charms, securing it firmly. A sturdy piece of reinforcement. This shelf offers an even wider perimeter view.