The Bookmark

 

I am not the story. I am the pause between breaths. The hush before the next sentence.

I’ve held the place for lovers, for liars, for lonely hearts who read by candlelight. I’ve marked the moment a child first met dragons. I’ve been forgotten in cookbooks, remembered in grief.

You do not know me. But I know the weight of your thumb. The way you sigh when the chapter ends.

I am not loud. I do not beg. I simply wait.

And if I am lucky— I will be carried into your next adventure.

Not as a hero. Not as a villain. But as the quiet witness who never allowed you to become lost.