A Matter of Proper Alignment

I walked up the weathered steps of the backyard patio workbench after catching the dry, honest scent of shaved pine. Resting across a brass measuring ruler was a brass tailor's thimble, rolled awkwardly on its side against an open box of sewing pins. A stray pin had slipped halfway through the thimble's opening, keeping it wedged at an uncomfortable slant. I stepped forward, lowered my stance, and gripped the brass rim with both hands. Bracing my boots against the wood grain, I eased the pin loose and pushed the thimble upright so it sat squarely beside the needle tin, perfectly balanced.