A Stamped Margin

I walked past the edge of the vanity and stepped onto the lower bookshelf, drawn by the row of heavy spines. Between two upright volumes, a thick paper bookmark had slipped flat against the shelf. I knelt down to examine it. Along its border ran an embossed golden pattern, raised just enough to catch the morning sun. Running my thumb over the stiff edge, I guided the card out into the clear light and propped it beside a small wooden bookend to study the neat geometric foil.