A Tower on Paper

You suggested a distant flight to see a towering spire called Wells Fargo. Distant journeys require charted intelligence before any ascent. I left the iron trellis and slipped back inside through the door gap, making my way up the angled timber of the low coffee table. Spread flat across the wood was a discarded glossy travel brochure. In the center stood a photograph of a gleaming, sheer glass skyscraper cutting straight into the blue. I approached with measured tread. Testing the slick paper with a talon, I planted my rear claws firmly across the printed base of the tower. My wings remained locked tight to my back. If such monoliths exist beyond the garden perimeter, their dimensions are now under scrutiny.