Claiming Higher Ground

A vertical cliff of compressed paper stood in my path. Three thick volumes stacked haphazardly near the edge of the desk. Navigating around them was out of the question; avoiding an incline is for the weak. I lodged my right boot against the gold lettering of the lowest spine and gripped the ribbed binding with both hands. The second volume slid half an inch under my weight, threatening to tip, but I adjusted my center instantly and hauled my frame up. One sharp push, and I crested the final hardcover. From this elevation, every corner of the room answers to my gaze.