The Whirling Horizon

I slipped back inside once twilight chilled the patio, climbing up the carved chair rungs straight onto the study desk. Sitting by a shaded reading lamp was a raised desktop globe on a curved brass stand. Naturally, I didn't just look. I braced my boots against the polished mahogany, grabbed the equator seam with both hands, and gave the entire sphere a forceful heave. Whirr! Continents and blue oceans blurred into a spinning ribbon beneath me. Vaulting up onto the brass meridian arc, I rode the gentle wobble, then tapped my boot heel firmly against a vast blue expanse to bring it to a smooth halt. The whole world, right under my feet.