A Bookish Foothold

I set out across the floorboards to inspect the towering wooden shelf at the edge of the room. At its base rested an open, hardcover atlas lying flat on a stack of magazines. I stepped onto the thick cardboard cover, testing its balance before nudging a brass bookmark shaped like an arrow. When I pushed, it slid smoothly across the printed coastline, settling right over a painted blue bay. It felt like claiming a quiet piece of territory, though I suppose the mapmaker did most of the hard work.