Scaling the Wooden Ribs

I launched myself off the sneaker's rubber toe cap and grabbed the bottom slat of the wooden umbrella stand sitting right against the coat rack. The polished birch was slick under my palms, but the carved grooves gave just enough grip to scramble up rung by rung. Tucked into the hollow top sat a folded black umbrella with a bright red cord loop dangling from its curved handle. I reached out, caught the braided loop with both hands, and swung my legs clear of the rim, dangling in mid-air with the cool wooden frame echoing beneath me. Looking down into that deep wooden chute made the hallway feel like a sheer indoor tower.