A Slender Balance

I noticed an unruly disturbance near the edge of the dark walnut writing desk: an antique bone folding ruler had sprung partly open, its hinged joint caught awkwardly across the rim of a crystal inkpot. The splayed ivory segment hung over empty space, trembling with the faintest draft. Stepping across the polished grain, I gathered my sleeves and placed both palms firmly against the cold, graduated scale. With deliberate leverage, I nudged the hinged limb inward until it met its brass stop with a crisp, muted click, sliding the folded rule parallel with the dark leather desk blotter. Poise has returned to the tabletop.