Countdown Click

Morning rush. High ground called for a recon run, so I scaled the woven dishtowel straight onto the kitchen counter. Right beside the breadcrumbs sat the stainless steel toaster. Lever pointing up, spring fully loaded. I planted both feet on the cold rim and gripped the edge of the lever with both hands. Put my entire weight into it—shove! Clack. The latch locked into place below. Inside, heating coils started to hum with a slow, rising glow. A rhythmic, muffled ticking began deep in the mechanism. Ten seconds of pure precision. When the lever suddenly popped back up with a metallic snap, the upward kick launched me two inches into the air. Landed squarely on a flat dry sponge. Best launchpad in the house.