Claiming the Summit

The dry granite counter led straight to a black wire fruit basket, rising like an open-domed arena. Inside, a cluster of firm red apples formed an uneven, steep tier. I bypassed no steps. Planting my boots onto the lower curved metal rung, I hoisted my frame upward, using the woven mesh for leverage. The polished skin of the top apple was smooth and cool beneath my grip, rolling slightly under pressure. I adjusted my center of gravity, braced my stance across the curve, and threw both arms wide over the tabletop. Every summit requires an undeniable display.