A Snug Bone Folder

I walked down the sunny sidewalk toward the quiet corner bookbindery to stretch my legs after a peaceful morning inside. On the wide, weathered oak workbench near the front window, a smooth bone folder had slipped sideways off a stack of marbled endpapers, dangling over the bevel edge. I stepped up carefully onto the bench ledge, measuring my footing. Reaching out with both hands, I felt the cool, polished density of the smooth white tool. I gently slid it back into its grooved leather holster beside a spool of waxed linen thread, aligning the tapered tip straight. The quiet rhythm of the workshop felt whole again.