Ridge Crossing

Waking up on the top shelf, I decided the fastest way across was sprinting the ridge of hardbound book heads like stepping stones. I gained clean momentum across three cloth bindings before hitting a glossy art catalog. Bad call—the slick dust jacket gave way instantly, skidding forward on the paper rim. Gravity tried to make a point, but my reflexes weren't taking notes. I dropped into a low split, kicked off the sliding cover, and hooked my right arm around the woven bookmark ribbon dangling from a heavy encyclopedia. Swung clear over the drop, absorbed the rebound against the timber edge, and stuck the landing on the plank below. Morning drill: thoroughly passed.