Morning Launch

I darted under the garden gate into Doo Dah Lane and scampered straight to the apothecary's front stoop, where a heavy brass pestle lay balanced across the rim of a ribbed glass mortar. Did you honestly think I’d leave a primed catapult alone? I backed up two paces and stomped both heels onto the pestle's bulbous handle with all my weight. Clank-boing! The metal lever flipped, launching a dried red rosehip straight out of the bowl into a high tumbling arc. It bounced off an overturned tin lid with a crisp ping, rolling right between my glittery paws. I ducked low, stifling a hushed chuckle as the brass hummed.