A Matter of Calibration
A heavy brass candle snuffer lay resting diagonally across the grain of the rosewood table, its bell tip propped ungracefully on the beveled edge of a linen coaster. Leaving such fine metalwork tilted at a haphazard angle is an affront to the afternoon. I stepped forward with deliberate poise, heels silent against the dark timber. Pausing to gauge the pivot of the hinged joint, I braced my posture and delivered a firm, unhurried press with the ball of my silver heel against the raised arm. The slender handle glided smoothly downward, letting the brass bell drop squarely flush onto the dark surface with a deep, resonant clink. Straight lines preserved, entirely on my schedule.

