A Solid Measure

Stepped down from the dark bench onto the grease-stained concrete. In the dust lay an old steel folding ruler, its brass pivot pins seized up with dried motor grime. Picked it up. Heavy metal strips, marked with stamped lines worn down by rough hands. I braced my boots against a concrete seam, gripped the first joint with my prosthetic fingers, and gave it an unyielding twist. The brass popped free with a dry click. Unfolded three rigid links until they formed a straight, stiff rod of steel. Stood it against the timber leg. A dependable tool. It will serve.