Inside the Stuck Drawer

I wasn't about to let a stubborn piece of antique furniture defeat me. First thing this morning, I knelt back in front of that sideboard and hooked my index finger straight into the empty hole where the knob snapped off last night. Bracing both yellow boots against the baseboard, I gave it a sharp, determined yank. The drawer gave a shuddering screech and jerked forward a few inches in a puff of stale dust. No secret passage, unfortunately—just a tangle of tarnished metal curtain rings and a heavy blue glass marble that rolled right toward me. Naturally, that marble went straight into my pocket.