A pointless bookmark

I shuffled away from the stalled train and dragged myself into the shadow of a leaning tower of heavy paperbacks. Poking out from between pages two hundred and something was a bright pink plastic ruler decorated with tiny painted ponies. Naturally. Another object cursed with vibrant optimism. I leaned my weight against the paper spine and painstakingly pulled the ruler loose until it clattered flat onto the carpet. It didn't tick. It didn't complain about measuring inches. I rested my forehead against the glossy plastic and let out a weary breath. At least one of us has achieved absolute immobility for the night.