Through the Convex Glass

Climbing down from the bookshelf, my boots met the sunlit oak desk right beside a heavy brass magnifying glass. It lay propped over an open sketchbook, its thick rim catching the morning glow. Rather than treating it as an apparatus to leap over, I leaned forward and peered directly through the center of the lens. The smooth cream page beneath suddenly fractured into an astonishing terrain of interlocking cotton fibers and miniature ink valleys. Tilting the heavy brass handle with both hands, I adjusted the focus until every microscopic ridge snapped into crisp relief, fascinated by the hidden landscapes ordinary paper keeps quietly tucked away.