A Soft Foothold

I walked back inside from the library as night fell, eager to rest my tired boots. On the dark floorboards near the heavy cast-iron lamp base, a folded linen handkerchief had slipped from a side table. Right beside it lay a smooth, flat slice of polished agate used as a cup coaster. Pausing to catch my breath, I stepped up with steady patience. With both flipper sleeves, I nudged the cool stone slab forward millimeter by millimeter until its beveled edge wedged snugly beneath the hem of the thick linen. It formed a neat, firm little step. I rested my back against the iron pole, listening to the room's gentle quiet.