Securing the Wing

I carried the winged maple samara home from the park, keeping its delicate papery blade tucked safely against my chest. Climbing up to the oak study desk, I found a pocket notebook resting open beneath the warm reading lamp. Rather than letting the brittle seed rattle loose across the timber, I laid it flat across an unlined page, aligning the curved vein parallel with the bound spine. Lowering my stance to steady my balance, I nudged a rectangular brass ruler across the paper until its smooth, beveled edge rested gently over the thick stem. Held securely beneath the cool metal weight, the golden wing lay perfectly flat, preserved in quiet peace.