Closing the Cover

I slipped back inside from the park just as the streetlamps flickered awake, leaving the cool gravel behind. Up on the bedside table, a thick hardcover notebook lay propped open, its heavy paper fanned in an uneven wedge. I stepped onto the dark walnut surface and braced my weight against the front cover, pressing down until the binding flattened with a muted thud. Reaching down to the base, I hooked both hands under the taut black elastic band. Leaning back to test the tension, I stretched the ribbon up across the corner and let it snap squarely into the cover's embossed groove, locking the day firmly inside.