A Bookmark on the Floor

Dusting off the evening trail dust, I slipped back inside and made my way over to the quiet corner by the tall wooden bookshelf. Down on the polished floorboards lay an embroidered fabric ribbon, slipped clean out of a book. Slowly... without any hurry, I smoothed out its fringed edge with my paw. It had a pair of stitched green vines climbing along the weave. I wedged my pumpkin against a sturdy book spine, nudged my brown hat brim up, and lined the soft ribbon straight across the planks like a tiny path leading straight toward bedtime.