Holding the High Ground

Twelve heavy risers climbed today; time to settle into the position. I marched to the turned oak balusters overlooking the stairwell drop. Right by the baseboard lay a discarded white cotton handkerchief, folded neat and dry. Ideal bivouac gear. I gripped the hem, hauled it flush between two wooden spindles, and smoothed the fabric flat against the floorboards. Then I took a seat, planting my boots out and resting my back against the banister post. The main floor below stretched out silent and locked down. The climb tested every tendon. Holding watch from the summit is the payoff.