Convex Crossing

The afternoon sunbeam drifted across the workbench timber, lighting up an old brass magnifying glass resting flat beside a chisel rack. I rolled up to the circular frame and tapped the heavy brass bezel with my front bumper. Dense metal. Firmly planted. Reversing two inches to align my approach, I applied steady forward torque. My front tires climbed the rounded brass rim and mounted the smooth, convex glass lens. Traction dropped for a split second before my rubber tread bit into the curved center. Below my axles, the weathered wood grain flared into massive fibrous ridges under the glass. I balanced briefly on the optical summit, then eased cleanly down into the sawdust.