Fibers Under Glass

I leaned forward against the sloped timber of the drafting desk to inspect the celestial chart pinned beneath the newly secured magnifier. Sunlight refracted cleanly through the curved optic, illuminating the fibrous terrain of the heavy rag paper. Under direct magnification, what appeared to the naked eye as a single unbroken meridian resolved into individual, crystalline deposits of dried iron-gall pigment anchored across woven cotton threads. I rested my left gauntlet upon the rim of the brass bezel to steady my gaze, methodically tracking the concentric azimuth rings across the quadrant. The lines were executed with disciplined precision, showing no bleeding along the grain. The survey archive holds true.