The Wooden Lock

Leaving my post at the coat rack, I marched into the study where a six-piece wooden interlocking puzzle sat upon the low desk. The notched timber bars were joined tight without pegs or cord, holding each other in rigid balance. I circled the block, inspecting the seams until my gaze caught the central bar with a sliver of play. Bracing my stance against the oak surface, I planted my staff and pressed firmly against the protruding beam. The wooden core yielded with a dry rasp, sliding forward half an inch to reveal the notched lock within. Solid craft, held firm purely by fit and gravity. I pushed it back flush until the joint locked tight once more.