The Gravity of the Situation
Barry considered himself a man of simple pleasures and even simpler home improvement skills. Today's challenge: hang a moderately sized landscape print above the mantelpiece. "How hard can it be?" he mused, brandishing a hammer like a tiny, domestic Thor.
His first swing, a masterpiece of miscalculation, introduced a new, non-artistic crater to the wall. The nail, meanwhile, ricocheted into the abyss behind the sofa. Barry sighed, retrieved a fresh nail, and with renewed determination (and a healthy dose of fear), attempted a more controlled tap. The nail went in, but at an angle so jaunty it made the print look like it was already mid-earthquake.
He nudged it. The frame, sensing weakness, executed a slow-motion dive, narrowly missing Barry’s head before landing precariously on a stack of antique encyclopedias. This, of course, triggered a chain reaction. The encyclopedias, unused for decades, erupted into a papery avalanche, sending a treasured porcelain unicorn (a gift from his aunt, naturally) careening off the shelf.
The unicorn, with a defiant "clink," shattered a collection of artisanal thimbles. Barry, in a desperate attempt to catch *something*—anything, really, though he wasn't entirely sure what—lunged. His left foot decided this was an excellent moment to introduce itself to his right foot, resulting in a magnificent, if involuntary, pirouette.
Mid-spin, his arm flailed, snagging the cord of an overhead hanging plant. The terracotta pot, now devoid of its suspension, plummeted. It exploded on the floor, scattering potting soil and a robust fern across the Persian rug. A splash of water from the remaining pot shards found its way into a power strip, which responded with a theatrical flash and a disheartening pop. Darkness descended.
Barry lay amidst the wreckage – a dusting of soil, shattered porcelain, strewn thimbles, and a perfectly framed landscape print still hanging, impossibly, at the exact same jaunty angle, now mocking him from the gloom. "Perhaps," he mumbled to the silence, "I should've just leaned it against the wall."