A Slanted Lever

I moved back toward the dry threshold to watch the light rain tap against the steps. Resting near the door casing was an old wooden domino block, its black dots faded. Beside it lay a smooth, flat ice cream stick. I crouched low, observing the two pieces. Slowly, I placed the small stick horizontally across the domino's center, testing the balance. It rocked once, settling into a tiny seesaw. With quiet care, I pressed one end downward with my finger until it tapped the cedar plank with a crisp, hollow clack. When I released it, the wooden tongue sprang back level.