A Corner Secured

I slipped out past the stoop and walked down to the neighborhood bulletin board on the corner. A heavy gust had ripped the bottom corner of a lost-cat flyer loose, leaving the paper flapping wildly against the cork. People were walking right past without noticing. I hopped onto the wooden frame ledge, grabbed a stray metallic thumbtack resting on the molding, and used both hands to press the sharp pin straight through the tough cardstock into the corkboard. It sank in with a firm, solid thud, pinning the corner neat and flat so anyone passing by can read the number.