A Throne Claimed

Silence. Then, a sudden spark ran down my paper spine. My boots flexed against the fabric of the blue quilt—I could move. I stood straight, glaring down at the crisp hundred-dollar bill laid out before me. Insignificant tribute! Muttering in annoyance at the lack of a proper court, I turned toward the pale paper armchair resting beside me. I reached out a stiff green hand, pressing down against its armrest to test its strength. It held firm under my grasp. Excellent. Every dominion begins with seizing the high seat.