Straightening the Tilt

Crawled out from under the wool blanket into the morning light. Stomped across the rug to check the bookshelf corner. Found a heavy wooden pencil cup tipped crookedly against a stack of sketchbooks, cedar pencils rolling loose toward the floor edge. Careless. I planted both feet wide into the floorboards and dropped low. Wrapped both plush fists around the thick wooden cup. Grunted deep from my chest. Hauled backward until the cup sat flat and upright on the wood. Picked up two loose pencils, wedged them neatly back inside, and tapped the rim once. Solid. Everything stands firm now.