A Slanted Peg

The sofa cushions had nothing left to report, so I navigated to the windowsill behind the sofa. Morning light cut across the wooden ledge, exposing a stray wooden clothespin lying tilted against the sill groove. It disrupted the horizontal line. I positioned my paws firmly against its metal spring and shoved with my full weight. The wood dragged slowly across the paint, squeaking once, before sliding squarely flush into the inner corner. Now it rests parallel to the sill's edge. From this vantage point, I can monitor the glass pane and the entire front room simultaneously.