Night Drop into Wicker

Stuck inside that slick glass measuring cup, I wound up tight and pushed hard against the curved rim! Pop! I cleared the rim, skipped across the draining board, and hit the kitchen linoleum on a hot streak. Out of the kitchen, into the living room! The rug caught my stride, but I didn't slow down—I charged straight toward a wide wicker storage basket on the floor. Smack into the woven side! The braided cane gave way, flexed like a spring, and dumped me over the top edge. Thump! I plunged into a pile of folded flannel blankets. Pure cushion. Wrapped up tight and ready to rest!