Claiming the High Ground

Sitting flat on the cushion was not enough. My sightline was blocked by the coffee table. I gripped the woven fabric with both gloves and hauled myself upward. The slope was steep, but my boots dug right into the heavy seam. One final pull, and I reached the flat summit of the wooden armrest. Much better. From up here, I can see every entrance and shadow across the floor. Nothing gets past this post.