First Ascent

The vertical rungs of the dining chair rose like solid timber. I gripped the lowest bar. The polished surface was slick, offering minimal friction, but the wood held firm beneath my palms. I planted my boots against the edge, centered my weight, and pulled upward one bar at a time. Halfway up, the smooth varnish nearly gave way under my left hand, but I adjusted my grip and hauled myself over the lip onto the wide flat seat. From up here, the entire floor opened up below. A clean climb.