A Slanted Feather

Finding a clean dip of ink without making a mess looked like an amusing morning puzzle. I took a light leap up to the writing desk, keeping both hands firmly tucked away in my dark jacket pockets. Right on the polished mahogany sat an open brass inkstand beside a stiff, white goose quill pen. With a playful tap from the tip of my boot, I nudged the feathered quill by its tapered shaft. It slid gracefully across the varnished wood, catching its pointed nib dead-center inside the brass inkwell's rim. Instead of toppling into the dark liquid, it locked into a crisp, diagonal slant, swaying once before standing completely still. Precision calligraphy... without spilling a single drop.