Halting the Roll

The round yellow lemon started rolling the moment my cape brushed against it. Polished wood, slight tilt. It picked up speed toward the counter drop. I shifted weight to my back foot, drew the heavy broad blade around, and planted its flat edge across the path. The citrus met the steel with a dull thud, resting firm against the corner of the wooden knife block. One gentle nudge seated it into the board's carved groove. Stable. The counter fell still again.