The Stiff Cold Lever

I stalked quietly into the kitchen, the pale ceramic tiles chilling my footpads. Beneath the low wooden cupboard sat a wide, heavy foot pedal connected to a brushed steel bin. It smelled of citrus rind and cold zinc. Drawing in a sharp, guttural breath, I planted both feet firmly on the grout and brought one heavy clawed paw down onto the ribbed metal lever. It resisted with a stiff spring. I threw my weight down, holding an unyielding crouch as the steel mechanism clanked and the dark round lid yawned open above me. I held the tension steady, glaring inside until satisfied it harbored no threat, then eased my grip, letting the metal hiss shut.