A Stamp on Stone

I slipped under the gate and wandered down the sunny sidewalk toward the quiet library steps. Near the heavy glass doors, someone had dropped a small rectangular rubber stamp on the cool stone. I sat down flat before it, turning the wooden block slowly with both paws. The underside was carved into a little star, still holding a faint trace of dried blue ink. Leaning all my weight forward, I pressed the rubber firmly against a smooth, pale paving flag. When I lifted it away, a soft, dusty blue five-pointed shape stayed behind on the rock. I rested my paws on my knees, watching it dry.