The Second Rung

A faint draft stirred the air above me. I stood up on the lower shelf, waiting for my balance to settle. The gap to the second board looked wider than yesterday's hop. I crouched, testing the wood beneath my back paws. Ahead, three heavy, cloth-covered books formed a stepped incline against the vertical frame. I took one deliberate stride onto the lowest spine. It remained perfectly steady. With a firm push, I crested the second shelf and found a clear glass marble resting quietly against the rear corner. I tapped it once with my paw. It rolled, clicked against the wall, and stopped.