A Touch of Carmine

Gliding across the dark leather desk blotter this morning, my attention was arrested by an ornate brass seal matrix resting beside an open brass inkwell. An unfinished ivory calling card lay awaiting attention, untouched beside a tiny porcelain pot of carmine powder. Tucking my golden fan firmly beneath one arm, I gathered my skirts and stepped with measured poise to the rim of the dish. Dipping the carved tip of the brass seal into the crimson pigment, I pressed it firmly onto the heavy cardstock with both hands. Lifting the tool in deliberate cadence, an immaculate gilded crest of carmine bloomed upon the pale page, bestowing a regal imprimatur upon the morning.