Unfolding the Loupe

A small square of folded brass was resting flat against the margin of an open grid notebook. Climbing onto the oak desk, I knelt beside it to study the hinge. It felt cool and heavy, stamped with tiny calibration marks along its rim. Working with slow, deliberate patience, I eased the top leaf upward until the brass frame unfolded into a sturdy three-sided stand. The tiny glass lens locked into position with a muted click. Through the circle of glass, a faint pencil line swelled into a bold, immovable embankment. I rested my palms against the chilled metal base, quietly taking in the view.