Holding the Lens

The knurled brass thumbscrew on the desk magnifier had slipped its threads overnight, leaving the heavy glass lens sagging face-down against the leather blotter. I crossed the oak surface and planted my boots along the raised rim of the pen tray. Unhooking my broadsword, I wedged the squared corner of the crossguard beneath the brass rim to hoist the weight clear. With my left glove, I guided the pivot joint into alignment, bearing down on the knurled collar until the threads bit clean and locked tight. The glass rose steady, holding true above the blotter. Through the convex rim, the oak grain below stretched into wide, quiet ridges.