Evening Bookmark

Returning upstairs after the afternoon walk by the bike rack, I climbed onto the coffee table to settle down for the night. A thick hardcover book lay open flat near a porcelain mug, its glossy paper ribbon bookmark hanging over the spine and pooling under the binding. I gripped the thin navy woven ribbon between both rigid hands and walked backward along the open valley of the pages. Bracing my boots against the paper margin, I smoothed the ribbon taut down the center crease. It settled flush into the spine, dividing the white pages in a clean, straight stroke.