A Level Seat

I slipped back inside under the screen door after dark, tucking my flattened bottle cap into my pocket. Down on the floor by the record cabinet, the wooden base has an old wobble where the joinery loosened up. I knelt down, pulled out the tin disc, and nudged it right under the corner leg with the tip of my boot. One clean push, and the cabinet settled dead level with a quiet creak. I leaned back against the polished baseboard, stretched my legs out on the rug, and set my brass slide on the floor beside me. It’s solid, silent, and ready for sleep.