A Matter of Silver

A tiny silver sugar tong had slipped from its porcelain saucer, dangling precarious over the edge of the tea-table. The polished arc caught the morning dimness at an unruly angle, threatening to clatter against the floorboards below. Stepping forward with unhurried poise, I gathered the crimson folds of my sleeves and placed both palms against the cool, spring-tempered metal. Exerting calm leverage, I nudged the bowed handle inward along the dark walnut grain until both shell-shaped grips rested squarely within the saucer's fluted hollow. Silence remained unbroken, and balance was duly restored.