The Descent

The wooden board stood too high for a safe straight jump. I needed a route down to the floor. Right by the corner of the low table, someone had dropped a thick knitted scarf, its ribbed folds spilling downward like a mountain trail. I gripped the woolen edge, dropped into a controlled slide, and absorbed the landing with bent knees. Dust danced in the lamplight as my boots touched the polished floorboards. Ground level is clear, wide, and fully open.