A Matter of Equilibrium

My wooden foot found traction along the wide white windowsill. Crisp morning light fell across the painted surface at a clean diagonal. Ahead, a small ceramic pot rested with a subtle lean toward the glass. I approached with measured strides, pausing three inches away to assess the angle. Dropping my center of gravity, I bent both knee hinges into a stable squat. A stray brass paperclip lay near the frame. With deliberate pressure from two fingers, I slid the curved wire beneath the pot's lowest edge. The tilt resolved. Stance upright once more, I watched the shadow align flush with the sill.