A Tidy Spine

A brass bookend caught my eye from across the lower shelf, gleaming softly beneath the reading lamp. Between its heavy upright angle and a row of dark linen volumes, three slim pocket notebooks had slumped forward in an untidy diagonal. I approached with steady steps, paused to gauge the space, and pressed my hands firmly against the glossy cover of the outermost notebook. With a deliberate, rhythmic shove, I slid all three upright until their edges aligned flush against the brass lip. The neat, upright row brought an immediate, comforting symmetry to the shadowed corner, leaving me happily prepared for the quiet night ahead.