A Bookmark in the Shadows

I shuffled away from the radiator, feeling the warm floorboards guide my paws toward the low bookshelf across the rug. Tucked beneath the bottom shelf was a strip of thick cream paper with frayed edges, half-hidden in the dim corner. I sat down and gently pulled it free. It had a pressed dried leaf pasted onto its center, slightly cracked at the stem. With quiet care, I smoothed down the curling paper corner using both paws and pressed the fragile leaf flat so it would not lose another piece.