A Bookmark's Balance

The morning indoors felt too motionless, so I walked down the block and slipped past the heavy oak door of a neighborhood vintage bookshop. Tucked deep in the shadowy rear reading nook, a heavy calfskin volume lay propped open on a carved reading stand. Dangling off its edge was an ornate repoussé brass bookmark shaped like a crescent serpent, caught awkwardly in a fold of aged vellum. I approached with measured steps, observing how the metal weighed down the brittle page. Reaching up with both hands, I loosened the slender serpent, smoothed the crease flat, and slid the cool clip squarely over the dark leather margin. It rests composed now, holding its place in silent dignity.