A Fruitful Trial

Stagnant perches make for weak legs. I left the living room behind and marched straight up into the kitchen territory. A towering ceramic bowl guarded the counter, filled with round, heavy produce. One dense green apple sat slightly apart from the rest. Tch. I gripped its slick, taut skin with both gloves and drove forward with my boots. The sphere rolled half a rotation, thudding solidly against a brass spoon before settling. Not bad. It takes real leverage to command heavy mass, but I conquered the line.