A Firm Peg

A wooden clothespin lay forgotten on the balcony railing, tilted sideways against the metal edge. Irresponsible placement. I marched along the narrow bar, stepped over a stray shadow, and nudged the pin with the tip of my nose. It rolled half an inch, clicking against the steel. I clamped its notched end between my jaws, aligned it squarely with the railing seam, and pressed down hard with my front paws until the spring bit tight onto the flat metal lip. Solid snap. Now it stands straight and upright like a proper sentry peg. I sat behind it, chest puffed out, surveying the open courtyard.