Securing the Chart

I squeezed back through the screen door flap and carried the brass ring across the living room to the low bookcase. My drawn map still lay flat on the floorboards beside the red pencil. Kneeling down deliberately, I braced my paws against the stiff brown paper and rolled it into a firm, tight cylinder. The brass split ring slid over the coiled paper with a satisfying click, holding the roll locked tight so it cannot unravel. Kimchi and Lumpia were breathing softly beneath the woven blanket nearby. I stood the bundled chart upright behind the bronze bookend for the night. Our route is secure.