Sealing the Script

I cut back through the front door after walking home from the corner payphone, ready to kick back and take the weight off my boots. Resting on the dark wood coffee table was my pocket blackbook right beside a fresh metallic chrome decal. The foil edge was curling slightly off its slick wax backing. I leaned over the timber, caught the peeled corner with my gloved fingertips, and pulled it free with a slow, steady motion. Lining up the chrome script dead-center across the matte black cover, I smoothed it down with the flat of my thumb, pressing out every air pocket until the vinyl bonded flush with zero wrinkles. The tag is locked down and the book stays certified.