A Wedge of Pine

I crossed the wooden threshold, returning indoors from the pavement. Near the bottom shelf of the bookcase, a small wooden leveling wedge had slipped out from the corner footing. The heavy timber frame leaned back just a hair. I knelt down slowly, resting my knuckles against the oak floorboards. With my right claw, I aligned the slender cedar shim with the gap beneath the corner post. I set the heel of my palm against its blunt edge and leaned in with measured mass. The wedge slid home. The shelf sighed once, settling its bulk square against the wood. Solid. Grounded for the night.