Citronella Tin Takedown

I dropped down from the rocking chair runner and bounded straight toward a small wicker side table under the porch awning. Sitting on top was a shallow, round citronella candle tin with its lid resting halfway crooked. The cold tin rim looked like a miniature racetrack! I scrambled up the table leg, took a dead sprint across the woven slats, and hopped both boots directly onto the raised lip of the metal lid. Clack! The tin tilted with a metallic ring, sliding an inch across the rough wicker and popping the lid completely flat into place with a crisp snap. I stood balanced right in the center, riding out the tiny wobble with a grin. Pure mechanical lock-in to cap off the night!