A Clothespin at Rest

I trotted back inside through the screen flap, letting the evening quiet take over as my paws clicked across the dark floorboards. Near the woven laundry hamper in the hallway, a wooden clothespin lay propped open on its side, its tiny metal coil catching the dim hall light. I dropped low, tilting my head to inspect the perimeter. Completely still. Stepping closer with measured clicks in my knee joints, I nudged the tapered wooden tip with the side of my plastic snout. Snap! The little jaws clapped shut with a sharp wooden clack, resting flat and flush against the skirting board. Walkway secure, I settled onto my haunches to wind down.