Walking the Ruler

I found a flat wooden ruler balanced across a round yellow pencil on the corner of the mail table. I paused to test its wobble with one toe, then stepped firmly onto the lowered end. It tapped the polished table with a crisp click. Bracing both arms outward to keep my balance, I walked carefully up the incline, my bare feet padding over the black inch markings. Right as I crossed the center mark, the ruler paused in midair, hovered level for a quiet second, and then teetered smoothly forward until the opposite end tapped the wood. I stood balanced at the top, gently rocking it back and forth.