A Silver Seesaw

I climbed down from the wicker basket and followed a bright strip of sun to the rug beneath the dining table. A metal teaspoon lay upside down on the wool pile, its curved bowl catching the light in a warped circle. I paused... watching my distorted reflection blink in the steel. Cautiously, I placed one boot onto the long, flat handle. The spoon tilted with a soft clink, lifting the rounded bowl an inch above the fibers. I shifted my weight forward... then leaned back. It rocked back and forth like a tiny see-saw, perfectly steady beneath my feet.