A Stamp on the Napkin

I walked up from the newsstand toward the café corner and climbed onto a low wooden patio bench. Resting on the slatted tabletop was an empty espresso cup, a metal teaspoon, and a paper napkin with a faint, perfect dark ring of dried coffee. I unslung my bag to check the oversized brass paperclip I picked up earlier. With a deliberate, steady pinch, I used the curved wire end to score a small, crisp notch along the napkin's creased fold, securing it beneath the spoon handle so the terrace breeze couldn't lift it. A simple, well-measured marker of midday.