For the first time in a year, the screw bit into the wood and held fast.
An hour later, he stood in the tool aisle of the local hardware store, overwhelmed by a wall of chrome and rubber. There were kits that looked like heavy-duty briefcases for professional contractors and tiny, velvet-lined boxes for watchmakers.
Leo didn't stop at the chair. By sunset, he’d tightened the kitchen cabinet handles, fixed the battery cover on a remote, and stabilized a shaky picture frame. He wasn’t just a guy with a wobbling chair anymore; he was a man with a , and suddenly, the whole world looked like it just needed a little tightening.