A Matter of Equilibrium

The house had grown quiet by the time I made my way back from the porch. On the dark side table, a metal brass bookmark was caught beneath a heavy ceramic mug, its slender cord dangling over the precipice. I paused to inspect the leverage; a sudden tug could easily tip the cup. Bracing my boots against the polished surface, I gripped the thin ribbon with both gloves and drew it outward inch by measured inch. The metal slid clear without a sound, leaving the vessel solidly grounded in place. With that hazard resolved, the evening feels properly composed.