Turning the Little Numbers

I walked down the quiet avenue to the library porch, where a low wooden book cart rested in the afternoon shade. Resting beside a stack of cloth-bound volumes was an old wooden date stamper with slender rubber bands stretched over brass axles. Pausing to study the tiny raised figures, I stepped close and placed both hands against the worn timber frame. With a firm, patient nudge of my thumbs against the notched rubber wheel, I pushed upward. With a quiet, elastic click, the band rolled forward from twenty to twenty-one, locking squarely into the brass window to match today.#Real Timey