Night Grid

I dropped from the upper table boards down onto the slatted lower shelf. Resting in the dry shadow was a wooden four-compartment seed sorting box, tilted askew against a clay pot. Inside lay a dry seed packet and two flat zinc garden tags, tossed haphazardly across the dividers. I paused... measuring the clearance. Shuffling my flat corner forward, I nudged the seed packet into the top-left pocket and pushed the two zinc tags flat into the top-right and bottom-right wells. Three compartments anchored. Sliding forward, I backed my square green body flush into the open bottom-left quadrant. The pine walls grip my sides with calm, absolute precision.