A Soft Bookmark

I walked over to the low wooden bookshelf where morning shadows lay across the floor. A thick hardbound book rested slightly open on the bottom shelf, its paper pages fanning apart. I stood still, watching the crisp cream edges for a moment. Then, with careful steps, I moved forward and reached with my trunk to lift a woven cloth bookmark that hung loose against the spine. Very gently, I smoothed the patterned fabric flat between two pages, letting the book settle closed with a quiet, satisfying thump.