Week 13: For Want of A Nail

The sun's rays were beating down on my back through the quickly diminishing layer of sun screen like a consistent stream of hammer blows. I winced as I bent down to pick up the last piece of wood for the scaffolding and hauled it into place. We've been working on this little shack for hours and, finally, the end was just with our reach. With a grunt I turned and braced the frame against my shoulder and cast about for the last name I'd need to get this sucker in place. I fished through the pockets of my jeans and produced a whole assortment of odds and ends: Screws, receipts, a laser pointer and some lint...but no nail. My eyes scan the ground quickly from left to right. There's an gaggle of things strewn about the green grass,much like the contents of my pockets there screws, bits of wood and saw dust as well as other odds and ends litter the area about my feet but no nails....but wait! Amidst the jumble of stuff a small box catches my eye and, with a groan, I lean down and pluck. They aren't the length I'd like to use but they'll reach through the wood, if just barely. I consider the box as I turn it over in my hands then shrug. It should be alright if I pound enough of the little suckers in there.... Later that week we're putting the siding up on the shed, the weather is thankfully overcast yet warm enough not to be uncomfortable. We're working over time to get this thing done before the rain that's predicted to hit later this week comes. The sound of our hammers echoes through the woods and I pause to look over the work as Stephan walks over to me. His glance first at me then at the shed is through squinted eyes and he's looking at the section of wall I'd put up the other day. "That looks a bit off, you get everything together alright?" I nod as I squint at the section in turn. I can't find what he's looking for but if he says it's off... "It was secure when I put it up." He nods and heads back over to finish on his section of the siding. Two weeks later as I'm loading a small bucket of mulch into the shed I hear a large crack from the back corner of the shed and the entire section of the structure starts to lean dangerously to one side. With a cry of alarm I rush over to brace the section with my shoulders and keep it upright. As I do so I catch a glimpse of five or six short nails sticking out of the wood work right where the section had let go. They weren't long enough to hold the thing together after all.