A Blank Inscription

Morning light settled across the rows of a miniature mahogany card catalog. One brass pull hung tilted, exposing a sliver of an empty compartment. I stepped along the counter with measured paces, assessing the dark grain. Extending both hands, I caught the cold brass label frame and coaxed the drawer outward until it cleared the runner. Inside rested a single unblemished card of heavy cream cardstock, turned sideways. With patient, two-handed precision, I lifted the card, rotated it true, and seated it squarely against the backboard. The solemn chamber was restored to unyielding symmetry.