A Fragile Secret

I hitched a sneaky ride on the back fender of a delivery cargo bike all the way to the square, because you can't stay cooped inside on a sunny afternoon! Right under a leafy tree sat a tall wooden street-library box. I scrambled past the slightly open glass door and hopped onto the bottom shelf. Resting beside a row of thick paperbacks was a heavy, linen-bound notebook propped half-open. Tucked between the aged pages was a delicate dried violet, flat and papery like a tiny purple wing. For once, I didn't stomp or shout. I just knelt down and nudged the petal with one gentle fingertip, amazed that something so tiny could stay completely safe out here.