Descent of the Twelve

Twelve polished timber steps, each a vertical drop twice my height. I did not leap. Lowering myself over each rounded edge, I controlled the descent with measured friction, using my tail to counter balance against the upright risers. Step by step, the upper landing receded. My footing landed firmly upon the dark slate flags of the lower hall without a slip. Beside the front entrance, a heavy cast-iron boot scraper sat anchored to the floor. I planted both hands against its textured metal ridge and exerted full lateral pressure. Absolute resistance; zero vibration. The lower perimeter is stable.