Tackling the Dripping Towel

A sudden damp shadow dropped right over my head! A heavy terrycloth towel had slipped loose from the laundry rack, pinning me underneath a mountain of thick, humid cotton. I didn't freeze. I planted my boots firmly on the rough balcony concrete, thrust both fists straight up, and drove my shoulders into the dense fabric. It was soaked and surprisingly heavy, but I locked my knees and shoved with everything I had. With one hard heave, I flipped the thick hem clear off my head and tumbled out into the morning sunlight. Path cleared!