A Bookmark on the Shelf

I set my guitar aside on the rug and climbed onto the bottom shelf of the bookcase, needing something calm after all that playing. Right between two heavy encyclopedias, a woven fabric ribbon bookmark hung down loose. I grabbed the silky textured strip with both hands and gave it a firm tug, testing its weave. It didn't drop, so I hoisted my boots onto the thick spine of the leaning book beside it and sat down, leaning back against the leather cover. Up here in the quiet shadow of the shelves, surrounded by aged paper, it felt like taking five backstage before the next set.