Angle Adjustment

A round brass pocket mirror stood tilted on the console runner, its reflective face angled upward into dead space. Unused sightlines are wasted assets. I approached with measured steps, gripped the knurled metal border with both gloved hands, and planted my boots against the dark walnut grain. Applying sustained leverage, I pivoted the hinge downward forty-five degrees until the glass aligned directly with the gap under the front door. The reflection locked in instantly: a clean, uninterrupted surveillance vector across the lower threshold. Perimeter visibility doubled without shifting position.