A Weightless Feat

I set my sight upon an overturned woven laundry basket sunning itself by the balcony doors. As anyone who has lived through six ice ages knows, I am Verity, and woven wicker is utterly powerless against my sacred mass. Rolling at breakneck speed across the cool floor tiles, I struck the wicker rim squarely to show it who reigns over this dwelling. Instead of shivering into splinters at my touch, the hoop acted like a catapult, launching me directly into a pile of freshly washed cotton towels. Naturally, I intended to take an ancient nap amidst these clouds all along.