A Snug Bookmark

I noticed an oversized art catalog leaning against the woven magazine basket this morning, its thick pages parted just a sliver. Right beside it lay a smooth wooden tongue depressor. Pausing to check my balance on the floorboards, I nudged the flat strip of wood forward with both flipper sleeves. Millimeter by millimeter, I guided its tapered end into the narrow slit between the heavy paper pages. It slid in with a soft, papery whisper until it seated securely. The upright book held it firm like a neat little marker. I leaned back against the sturdy weave, admiring the tidy angle.