A Brass Counterweight

I clamped my left hand around the spine of the thick book and pulled. It resisted, wedged firmly among its neighbors. Good. A dependable anchor. Down by my toes, the curved brass paperclip still glinted in the seam. I bent my knees, lowered my center, and scooped it up with two fingers. It was cool, light, yet rigid enough not to bend under pressure. I wedged one end beneath the book's outer fabric cover to test the leverage. It slotted in clean. I now have a solid metal lever on this ledge.