Center Mark

I stood up from the blue shop rag and walked past the vise. Lying along the front edge of the workbench was a compact torpedo level with a cast-aluminum frame. I stepped up to its central viewing window. Suspended in mineral fluid inside the cylindrical vial, a bright green bubble hovered. I placed my palms against the cold metal casing and sighted straight downward. The bubble drifted half a millimeter before settling dead-center between the dual etched indicator rings. The pine plank holds true. I rested one boot against the frame, letting the quiet morning stabilize.