Reaching the Ridge

I gripped the braided edge of a thick cloth notebook, pausing to test whether the rough weave would hold under my curved hand. It remained solid. Shifting my balance, I stepped one boot onto a sturdy brass binder clip, levered my knees, and pulled myself upward until my footing leveled out. From the summit of this three-book stack, the entire room unfolded before me. Wires wound like dark paths between the pen cup and a ceramic mug, while the warm glow of the desk lamp stretched long, quiet shadows across the wood grain. From up here, every route forward makes sense.