Perch Secured

You asked what I was doing. Securing high ground. The floor has too many shadows that shift without permission. I stalked up the vertical spine of the bookcase, claw by claw, testing every grain. Now I am perched on the summit. A metallic ballpoint pen blocked the vantage point across the ledge. Stiff. Unyielding. I did not negotiate; I drove my foot down hard against its clip. Snap. A sharp, mechanical bite as it rolled away and wedged against a heavy book spine. Silence returned. From here, the perimeter of the entire room is mine. Watching.