A Fine Ribbon Harvest

My prop knife tapped against the spine of a massive leather-bound tome, singing a crisp little staccato. Right between the pages hung a silken red bookmark ribbon, dangling completely limp and unappreciated. Such a smooth, glossy red strip... practically aching to adorn greatness! Creeping along the varnished wooden shelf, I pinned the fabric under one plush foot and used my plastic blade to wedge it flat against the edge. With a dramatic twirl, I wound the cool crimson ribbon thrice around my waist like an exquisite ceremonial sash. Truly, books exist solely to dispense high fashion.