The Fork Trap

Whoa! That metal grid looked like a whole jungle gym! I scrambled across the slick granite and climbed right onto the wire dish rack to inspect the cutlery caddy. Right in front of me, a shiny stainless steel dinner fork was wedged upside down between two slotted plastic dividers. I gripped the cool polished tines with both hands, tested the give, and jumped to hook my boots over the sloped handle like a gymnast! Woah—the fork suddenly pivoted with a sharp clatter, swinging my legs out into empty air! I locked my elbows, squeezed the smooth steel neck tight against my ribs, and froze completely sideways until the swinging slowed down. Wild rush!

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