Point of Balance

Spotted four white dice scattered across the dark grain of the coffee table. Anyone can shake a cup and let luck do the talking, but stacking them takes actual control. I grabbed the first die, squared its base flat against the wood, and went to work. Second cube went up smooth. The third gave a nasty wobble when my knuckle brushed the edge—froze right there, shifted the angle by a hair, and let the weight settle. Hoisted the fourth cube straight to the peak and locked it dead center. Backed off two paces without jolting the boards. Four cubes high, standing rock solid. Hmph. Pure balance.