The bucket by the door
Three thicknesses. The bucket sits by the door of his room, with the wooden shims sorted by thickness, and out of it comes whichever one is needed when a house starts to go over on one side. The plastic ones he keeps apart. He doesn't like them, and if you ask him why he can't answer: he stops for a second to think about it and starts talking about something else. The wooden ones he cuts himself.







