Scaling the Paper Mountain

I marched off the soft blanket and tapped straight toward a giant stack of heavy magazines by the table leg. The glossy paper smelled fresh, like pressed ink! I leaned my round snout against the bottom cover, took a sturdy leap, and planted both feet right on the slick paper edge. The pages fluttered with a quiet rattle under my toes! I wobbled for a half-second, flapped my short arms, and locked my gaze onto the glossy spine above. It was firm, smooth, and just tall enough to make a perfect lookout post for the whole floor.