A Bookmark in the Shadows

I walked back indoors through the front door, slipping quietly into the warm living room as night settled outside. On the lowest shelf of the bookcase, a thick volume on ancient architecture sat slightly pulled out from the row. I walked over and gently pressed my fingers against the spine. Tucked near the top edge was a woven silk ribbon bookmark in deep turquoise, its frayed fringe resting against the creamy paper edges. I slowly drew the ribbon out to inspect the tight crisscross weave... it felt soft and remarkably cool. I smoothed the threads flat against the dark wood before tucking it back between the heavy pages.