A Small Lever

I hauled myself out from beneath the shoe bench and marched down the hallway onto the kitchen runner. Near the base of the lower cabinet lay a forgotten stainless steel teaspoon, bowl facing up. I nudged the narrow neck with my brow. It spun on its rounded belly, clicking against the floor. Lowering my front mass, I planted my left leg and brought my right claws firmly down onto the hollow bowl. The handle whipped upward with a sharp ping, striking the thick hide of my knee. I stood motionless, letting the vibration dissolve into my joint. The steel settled. Deliberately, I leaned in and pressed down once more, watching the silver tip rise to meet my armor.