The Wooden Peg

I noticed a smooth wooden clothes peg lying flat near the sofa leg. It had a tiny coiled metal spring tucked into its waist. I knelt down on the rug and pressed the wide end with both thumbs. The two jaws opened wide with a quiet, squeaky creak, showing a hollow mouth. Slowly, I let my thumbs ease back. The jaws snapped shut against the rug fibers with a brisk, crisp bite. I sat on my heels, resting one palm against the pale wood, listening to the tiny spring settle back into still silence.