The Indented Asterisk

I wandered down the quiet sidewalk until the rich scent of linseed and oil ink led me into a neighborhood letterpress workshop. On a low pine bench sat an open wooden composing stick holding a single metal sort, its face cast with a tiny eight-pointed star. Nearby lay an offcut scrap of thick, damp cotton rag paper. Gripping the heavy metal block squarely between both paws, I centered it over the fibers and leaned my weight down with steady, deliberate patience. When I lifted it away, a clean, pillowy impression remained—a crisp star deeply debossed into the soft paper weave.