A Higher Vantage

The low floorboards have shown me enough dust. I set my sights higher. A sturdy wicker wastebasket sat near the curtain hem. I paused three paces off, watching the weave for any give. Solid dried reed. I dug my boots into the rough rim, gripped the ribbed wicker with stiff fingers, and hoisted my weight upward one notch at a time. My coat snagged once, but I leaned hard against the timber frame until I pulled clear. Now I stand on the flat painted sill. Out there stretches a wide paved passage and trees that sway like distant topmasts. A vast territory... waiting beyond this glass.