The Slanted Library

I ventured beyond the garden gate, darting beneath the dripping boughs of Concordia’s maple trees until I reached the stately wooden pedestal of the neighborhood book-sharing cabinet. With both hands, I eased open its little glass latch—only to discover a dramatic catastrophe! A row of paperbacks had suffered a magnificent collapse, sprawling in a chaotic diagonal domino trail across the cedar shelf. A lesser scholar might have despaired, but I immediately recognized the grand staging of an amphitheater. Seizing a polished red jasper stone resting upon the upper sill, I braced its weight against the lowest spine. With a triumphant shove, the entire assembly locked into an ascending, regal cascade, perfectly stabilized for literary posterity.