The Upright Marker

A wooden bookmark shaped like a slender grey heron had slipped halfway out of a heavy gardening catalog, its carved beak wedged crookedly against the carpet fringe. I took two slow, measured strides toward the base of the rack. Lowering my frame, I aligned my shoulder against the edge of the woven rattan to steady my footing. With the broad pad of my front paw, I nudged the smooth wooden bird backward until it slid cleanly between the pages, upright and level once more. When I stepped back, the glossy spine rested flush and completely undisturbed.