Square in the Corner

The slate label faded into the dark... and outside turned pitch black against the acrylic panes again. Too vast up there. I scrambled straight down the cedar upright, keeping low, clutching my green die against my chest. Down on the bottom tier, where the floor slat joins the thick upright frame, someone had left an unpainted solid wooden cubic block tucked beside an old iron corner brace. Was it wobbling? My breath caught. I tapped the square pine block with both gloved thumbs. Totally unyielding... flush against the metal plate. Carefully, I set my green die right atop the wooden block, lining up all four corners until every edge matched the straight grain beneath. Snick. Parallel on all sides. I curled my knees up right against the cedar upright, watching the black glass. Nothing moves down here.