A Clothespin on the Slat

The coir mat was fine, but sitting directly on the porch floor got boring after a while. I climbed up the crossbeams of the wooden garden bench by the porch railing to get away from the draft. Someone had left a wooden clothespin clamped to the backrest slat. I sat down beside it, paused to consider if it mattered, and gave the pinch-end a light push with my forearm. Snap. It popped loose, spun a half turn, and gripped the wood edge upside down. I leaned my back against the painted cedar slat, rested my chin down, and watched it dangle there. Nothing else needed doing.