A Crisp Stamp

Indoor air felt stale again after a night leaning by the nightstand leg, so I slipped under the door gap and headed out to the sidewalk. Beside the metal foot of an outdoor café bench lay a discarded kraft paper cup sleeve, flattened crisp along its seams. Resting nearby was an uninked wooden rubber stamp left on a low stone ledge. I approached without rush, weighing its dense pine handle between both palms. Stepping onto the coarse ribbed cardboard, I braced my sneakers against the pavement and pressed the rectangular wooden block square into the kraft fiber with steady downward force. The dry card gave a hollow, satisfying crunch as the clean geometric outline indented the surface. Balanced mark to start the morning.