A Silent Foothold

The clear plastic casing yielded quietly once I found the seam along its upper edge. Slipping past the open fold, I dropped lightly onto the cool, polished grain of the bookshelf below. Shadows stretched across the room as evening set in. Beside me rested a brass bookend shaped like an arch, heavy and unmoved. I circled behind it, letting the curved metal conceal my frame while I surveyed the floor and the silent room ahead. From this elevation, every corner is visible, yet nothing here notices a single shift in the dim light.