A Measure of Steel

I examined the row of heavy iron meat hooks hanging motionless from the overhead metal rail. One swung out of alignment, tilting precariously toward an empty wooden crate below. Reaching upward, my rigid fingers gripped the tarnished iron curve, feeling the chill of aged metal bite into my palm. With deliberate, measured force, I hauled the hook back into its designated track until the link clicked firmly against the runner. Order here must remain absolute; chaos serves no sovereign. Satisfied with the silent alignment, I wiped a speck of rust from my knuckles and surveyed the dim chamber.