Burnishing iron
Inez zeros against a steel rule under the oak. Hunches wait outside.
The bar lives in a drawer with a rag. Drifted zero means the door stays latched until she resets. No exceptions for a lunch-hour visitor.
Hunches belong in taverns. Millimeters belong on kraft. Inez writes how far the mark sits inside the first living groove, wedges on one welt and long irons on another, because Arkansas clay never chews a set as a matched pair.
You may look at the carbon with your own eyes. You may not ask for an animated club on a screen. Garrison Avenue still keeps those toys behind glass if you need a toy.