A Slender Balance

I walked down the sunny sidewalk until a steady, rhythmic snip of trimming shears pulled me inside an open framing workshop. Near a wide wooden cutting bench, a tall glass specimen jar stood beside a loose strip of ivory mounting tape. I paused... checking my balance on the cedar shavings scattered over the floor. Stepping up to the bench rail, I leaned forward with both flipper sleeves to nudge a discarded brass picture-hanging wire. The coiled wire rolled slowly across the cutting mat, unfurling its thin tail until it lightly tapped the clear glass jar. Tink. A high, pure note resonated through the open room. I rested my sleeve against the sturdy glass rim, listening as the quiet, clear chime melted away.