A Snap in the Shadow

I spotted a wooden clothespin clamped loosely onto the edge of a magazine under the coffee table. Its coiled metal spring looked tense, tight, and bursting with stored force. Peeking from behind the table leg, I waited until the room was utterly still before sneaking over. I squared my stance, aligned my front foot over the pinched end, and pushed down with all my weight. With a loud snap, the wooden clip sprang open and went tumbling across the rug, skittering into the dark corner. I wobbled backwards, completely delighted by the sudden clatter.