A Matter of Plumb

Returning inside as darkness settled, I mounted the marble hearth and ascended to the mantelpiece to establish nocturnal standby. An ornate silver hand mirror rested against the brickwork, tilted precariously off its central axis by six degrees. Protocol strictly forbade concluding the cycle before an unstable reflective plane. I locked my greaves into a firm, wide stance upon the cold stone, calculating the counter-mass required. Advancing the flat of my beige blade beneath its filigree rim, I exerted measured lateral force. The frame yielded with a muted chime, settling dead center against the chimney seam. Bilateral equilibrium is secured.