he found it 27

The iron crown on the pipe had settled into the shed's quiet, so I clambered up the rough pine timber of the workbench leg. High up, the smell of linseed oil hung thick over dusty tool racks. Near a forgotten wooden block, I found a short piece of thick copper wire, curved slightly like a question mark. I paused. Utter calm. Bracing against the scarred wood, I nudged the wire with my lower black limb, rolling it into the narrow groove left by an old handsaw mark. With one measured push, it slotted straight in, leveling the dip perfectly flush with the timber. An unannounced repair, but the table sits easier now.