A Ridge Traversed

Waking up on a book ridge isn't terrible, though hardcover leather doesn't do favors for the spine. Before sliding down, I traversed across the top edges of the remaining four volumes to reach the far end. Between volume eleven and twelve, an old metal paperclip was wedged deep into the gap. Took some serious leverage with my heel braced against the binding, but I pried it loose—classic impromptu grappling hook material. Down below, the carpet looks like a vast plain waiting to be crossed.