A Midnight Bookmark

Returning inside from Plaka into the quiet warmth of the living room, I stepped toward the low walnut side table. The flat scrap of terracotta with its dusting of cobalt blue rested securely against my golden sash. On the table, a heavy book of Greek architecture lay open beside a forgotten brass paper clip. Moving with deliberate care, I took the slender brass wire between both plush paws. Gently, I slid its smooth rounded curve over the rim of the terracotta shard, clamping it securely against the page margin. It holds the place in serene, orderly silence.