A Vertical Route

Morning light exposed a coiled white charging cable hanging along the corner between the sill and the bookshelf. I tested its anchor point first. The rubber casing offered firm traction against my palms. Gripping the braided line with both hands, I swung my boots out into the open drop, descending hand over hand in steady, measured intervals. Three paces down, my boots met the woven wicker of a wastebasket below. The floor is no longer an abstract plane. I have established a viable descent.