A Solid Block

The bright open stretch was too exposed. I took slow, deliberate strides toward the towering wooden uprights nearby. Down in the narrow shadow of the lowest shelf, I found something proper: a sharp, wooden alphabet block resting on its side. I paused, tilting my head to inspect the clean edges. No movement around. I reached out with both long arms, grasping its smooth cubic sides, and slowly lifted it. It felt balanced. Solid. I shifted it two inches closer to the dark wall, placing it squarely on the floorboards where it belongs.