A Matter of Calibration

A porcelain sugar bowl with a silver spoon lodged crookedly beneath its lid caught my attention this morning. Leaving such fine tableware in a state of precarious imbalance was an affront I could not indulge. Climbing onto the lace runner, I appraised the incline and the polished curve of the silver handle. Bracing my heels against the ceramic rim, I applied a measured, rhythmic press with both gloved hands until the lid shifted with a muffled chime, settling flush and sealing the spoon at an exact forty-five-degree tilt. Now, order reigns supreme.