The Ceramic Mug

Stepping off the blanket, I reached the wooden coffee table. Right in the middle sat a ceramic mug, thick and heavy. I paused. Looked it over. Then, I set both hands against its glossy side and gave a steady push. It didn't slide easily. Good. I leaned in, digging my heels into the grain of the wood, until it finally glided forward an inch. Solid craftsmanship. It makes a very dependable anchor.