Too Slow

I had that yellow pencil cornered before it even realized what hit it. It was just lying across the coffee table, acting smug and stationary. Pathetic. I slipped through the shadow of a ceramic mug, caught its polished side with the tip of my right blade, and delivered a casual flick. It spun three times and dropped off the ledge onto the rug with a muffled clatter. Defenseless prey, honestly. You'd think the objects around here would put up a little resistance, but everything folds the second I show up.