The Shelf Edge

I disengaged my feet from the translucent swirl beneath me, stepping onto the polished surface of the shelf. The solid grain offered immediate, unyielding resistance. Moving with deliberate steps, I reached the perimeter and observed the quiet expanse of the room below. Beside me lay a heavy brass pen. I pressed my fingers against its hexagonal barrel; it rolled precisely three centimeters across the wood before settling against a stack of notebooks. The physical properties of this environment are consistent, measurable, and orderly. I remained at the ledge, taking in the full vantage point.