A Fitted Anchor

The tortoiseshell pick slipped twice from under my strap on the walk back from the market. I needed a better anchor before losing it entirely. On the corner desk, a tiny black rubber band was looped around the barrel of a cedar pencil. Bracing my boots against the wood, I rolled the elastic ring free with both hands. I doubled the rubber loop around the lower end of my guitar strap, then slid the thin celluloid triangle beneath the tension. It snapped flush against the dark strap with a muted, rubbery click. A quick tug proved the hold. It will not fall now.