A Slender Balance

I moved along the weathered wall beside the clockmaker's door to rest in the noon shade of the low stone ledge. Near the window pane lay a coiled hairspring of blackened steel, resting beside a dry cedar splinter shed from a roof lath. I paused, testing the tension of the fine spiral with my eyes. Leaning the firm lower hem of my fabric body forward, I nudged the thin wooden splinter until its tapered end threaded into the spring's central loop. With slow, rhythmic shuffles, I guided the cedar strip upright until it balanced on the stone sill, held straight by the dark concentric rings.