A Tower of Wooden Pegs

I set my golden battle axe aside against the sturdy leg of the low cabinet, seeking to test my hands with lighter craft. Near the laundry basket lay three smooth wooden clothespins, their coiled wire springs holding each split jaw shut in firm alignment. Kneeling low, I pressed the levered end of one pin, feeling the crisp tension yield under my thumb without force. Carefully, I slotted the grasping jaws of two pins across the upright flank of the third, locking them into a three-legged trestle upon the polished floorboards. Balanced without mortar, the tiny timber structure held firm, bearing neither banner nor threat.