A Ringpost Claimed

I spotted a tall wooden broom leaning against the armchair, its smooth handle pointing up like a solitary turnbuckle waiting for a true headliner. I bounded straight past the rug, gripped the polished shaft with both gloved hands, and shimmied upward until I stood balanced on the thick bristles below. Reaching into my boots for total leverage, I pushed the heavy stick upright until it wedged firmly against the chair's timber frame, transforming a casual lean into an immovable championship post.