Evening Transit Line

I set down my tan mug against the heel of the leather sneaker, securing an anchor before the night settled completely. The white thread meridian stretched taut across the oak plank, still catching a dim reflection from the overhead hall lamp. Resting beside the umbrella stand was an unused brass eyelet from an old boot. Kneeling down, I threaded the loose end of the cord through its center hole and gave it a calibrated pull until the ring stood vertically on edge. When viewed from behind my mug, the brass circle frames the distant acorn dish and its three lentils in exact axial symmetry. The apparatus is complete and steady for the night.