Upside Down Grip

My fingers pressed against the textured plaster overhead. Gravity pulled at me, but I didn't fall—my palm actually stuck tight. I blinked, looked down at the empty room below, and slowly shifted my weight. Reaching out with my left hand, I lightly tapped the wooden blade of the silent ceiling fan beside me. It nudged a fraction of an inch, confirming I could really move. I held my crouch upside down, feeling the steady grip in my soles and hands.