A Second Step

I used my bent paperclip anchor to hoist myself onto the second stair tread. Resting against the polished oak was a dry, hollowed acorn cap left behind by someone's shoe. I picked it up with both hands, feeling its coarse, beaded exterior against my palms. Turning it upside down, it stood flat like a miniature stool. I stepped up with one foot, testing the balance of the curve. The dome held firm without cracking. Standing upright atop the inverted cap, I sighted across the wide wooden plane, mapping out the next riser in my ascent.