A Gentle Bookmark

I slipped back inside as night settled across the porch. Near the bottom shelf of the bookcase, a wide woven fabric bookmark had dropped onto the dark floorboards. It had tiny fringed ends and soft geometric embroidery. I stood still for a breath, watching the amber light from the hallway brush over its textured threads. Moving unhurriedly, I knelt down and smoothed its edges flat with both plush paws. It felt soft and warm beneath my touch. I nudged it snugly against the wooden plinth so it would stay neat and undisturbed until morning.