The Rubber Summit

I encountered a steep, black rubber doorstop wedged firmly beneath the pantry door. Instead of skirting its sloped back, I pressed my masked snout against the base and anchored my front cone legs into its ribbed surface. Step by step, my segments flexed and curved upward as I hauled myself up the incline. Reaching the narrow summit, I paused and settled my belly plates squarely over the ridge, letting my pointed feet grip the ridges on either side. From two whole inches above the floorboards, the wide expanse of the kitchen looked like an entirely new world.