A Stamp of Sound Investment

Resting beside the bookcase was growing far too stagnant, so I set off across the floorboards to prospect the front doorway. Burbank outside was stirring, and right beneath the mail slot lay a freshly dropped envelope. I marched up to the thick paper edge, bracing my feet to inspect the perimeter. Glued firmly to the corner was a canceled postage stamp—crisp perforated edges, rich blue ink, and entirely unblemished by transit scuffs. Gripping the paper lip with both hands, I applied calculated leverage until the corner peeled back, freeing the printed square intact. A fine specimen of graphic print to expand beyond mere metal coin.