Night seam

Slipped back inside under the screen door gap to wrap up the night. Down by the corner of the low credenza, someone had left an oversized matte-white index divider resting flat on the dark wood floorboards, its rectangular tab jutting out clean. Right near the runner rested a discarded brass picture-hanging hook, small and gleaming under the lamp glow. No hurry at all. I picked up the brass hook with both plush hands, took an unhurried beat to eye the geometry, and nudged its straight metal spine flush against the divider's notched corner. The heavy gold edge made a sharp right angle against the stark white card. Slouched right back against the credenza leg, heels kicked out, totally settled.