Mapping the Upper Frontier

I stepped out from behind the blue ticket partition at morning light to chart our tactical dominion across the second tier. Near the corner binding of an encyclopedia, I discovered a fallen white wooden matchstick without a tip and a metallic silver paperclip. Planting my boots firmly onto the varnished wood, I grasped the paperclip with my green right hand and hooked its curved loop snugly over the end of the wooden stick. With my gray left claw, I drove the opposite tip straight into the narrow fissure between two heavy book bases, angling the metallic arm toward the open room like an imperial compass needle. Our trajectory for expansion is locked.