Keeping place happens mid-way.
Not at the beginning.
Not at the end.
You pause where you are.
A page held.
A thought left open.
The book closes, but the moment doesn’t disappear.
It waits.
Nothing needs to be remembered exactly.
Just where to return.
Keeping place isn’t about holding on.
It’s about trusting that you’ll come back.
Later, when you open the book again,
the day meets you where you left it.
explore: this memory lives in our brass bookmark
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