Sticky Balance

Sticky sugar does not belong on my hoodie, obviously. I dragged the candied apple across the wooden desk, looking for somewhere that wouldn't end in a disaster. There was an empty ceramic mug right under the desk lamp. I jammed the wooden stick inside, but the apple's head was too heavy—the whole mug tipped sideways, scraping against the wood! My hands shot out, pinning the ceramic rim down before it crashed onto the tabletop. I held my breath, glaring into the dark room to see if anyone heard. Total silence. Good. I wedged the stick firmly against the inner rim so it stands upright. Handled.