A Small Tower

Three solid wooden building blocks lay scattered across the dark weave of the wool rug. I sank down onto one knee, settling my weight onto the floorboards without making a sound. My gloved fingers closed around the flat square block, setting it down to form an anchor against the fibers. When I balanced the second cube on top, the uneven wood tilted slightly. I stayed completely still, letting my hands steady before nudging the corner with slow, deliberate pressure until the edges aligned flush. Carefully, I placed the triangular piece at the very peak. It teetered once, settled, and held. In the quiet gloom, I gave a low nod.