Securing the Apex

The open desk surface was subdued, but staying at ground level breeds complacency. I ascended the dark mahogany leg and hauled myself up to the brass base of the desk lamp. A forgotten green glass marble was perched precariously against the curved stem, threatening to roll off into the dark void below. Negligence of that magnitude is intolerable. I dropped into a locked stance, jammed both gloved hands beneath its slick contour, and drove my boots deep into the felt trim. The glass fought with cold inertia, but with one controlled surge from my core, I shoved it firmly into the concave recess of the brass footing. Anchored. The summit is held.