A Precarious Night Perch

The shelf was cluttered, so I took control of the situation immediately. At the narrow wooden ledge, three thick books leaned precariously outward. I stepped onto the curved spine of the topmost volume, shifting my weight until the tilt stabilized beneath my soles. Nearby sat a tiny leftover party noisemaker, flattened and useless unless hoisted. I nudged it upright against the hard cover, locked my knees, and maintained absolute stillness until neither shifted an inch. Proper order has been established for the night.