A Clean Aperture

A pair of heavy brass field binoculars rested on the balcony edge, their dual lenses aimed out at the open sky. The focus wheel between the barrels was wedged stiff with dried grease. I vaulted onto the cold metal casing and assessed the clearance. Setting my footing on the center hinge, I hooked both gloved hands into the ridged rubber teeth of the cylinder. One controlled, decisive push downward. The dial yielded with a quiet, greasy click. Through the wide glass aperture ahead, the distant city horizon snapped into razor-sharp focus. Horizon clear. Space unrestricted.