Holding the Corner

A folded pocket map of the city was spread across the oak desk, its stiff accordion folds trying to spring shut. The top edge kept curling up, casting a sharp shadow right across the street grid. I spotted a solid brass plumb bob sitting in an open wooden tray nearby—compact, tapered, and pleasantly heavy. Bracing my boots against the edge of a closed leather journal, I nudged the brass weight forward and rolled it squarely onto the crease. The paper yielded with a dry, papery press, staying flat against the wood. With the folds tamed, the network of alleyways was finally clear. Good layout always pays off.