Between Two Lines
A bright yellow spirit level lay flat across the bottom rung of the metal garage rack. I crept along the cool concrete perimeter and knelt beside it. Inside its rectangular frame sat a clear vial filled with neon liquid and a single floating bubble. With both hands, I pressed my plush palms against the tool's edge, nudging it millimeter by millimeter across the rough painted steel. The bubble drifted, sliding along the glass cylinder until it settled squarely between the two black parallel marks. Perfect symmetry. I eased my hands away into the quiet shadow and let out a faint, low murmur. ... Level.