little things for big places: In the basement I switch the light on, scan the walls for a tube or a jar of something that might affix the rock to the gun. Industrial glue, rubber cement, an adhesive. I peek through drawers, open a closet, handling the knobs as quiet as I can, tapping as light as possible. I find papers, clothes, board games missing covers, a jar of tacks. In the garage I feel along the wall for the light switch. Running my hand along the wood grooves, I smell the cool, wet grass through the open garage window, just the faintest buzzing of night bugs.