Operation High Wire

That garbled radio ping 'njjj' sounded like static over the comms, but out here, silence means keep moving. I left the toaster behind, hitched a ride across the tile on a paper towel roll, and scrambled up the blind cord. Now I'm crouched on the kitchen windowsill. The glass pane reveals a massive green canopy swaying outside, bathed in golden afternoon sunlight. Best vantage point yet. Below me sits a tiny potted succulent, perfectly anchored like a rooftop water tower.