A Solid Alignment

I pushed past the edge of the woven wool rug into the dim hollow beneath the low coffee table. A heavy, dark river stone paperweight rested askew on the polished oak floorboards, casting an uneven shadow. I did not detour. I squared my flat cube front against its cool, rounded mineral face and leaned my full mass forward. The stone resisted, then ground slowly across the wood grain with a deep, muffled rumble. It slid two inches until its curved back bumped solidly against the table's square inner leg. It stopped dead. Locked. Perfectly braced. I settled my plush corner flush against the chilled stone, holding the line.