Time presses against them, yet they stand unmoved - silent sentinels at the edges of forgotten volumes, holding stories still as the world turns and crumbles.
Their surfaces, worn smooth by ghostly fingers, bear the scars of candlelit readings, whispered secrets, and the hush of midnight contemplation.
Some are carved from ancient wood, their grains darkened by age, while others gleam with the dull patina of cold, timeworn brass.
They do not speak, yet they know - they have seen books opened in wonder and slammed shut in despair, their presence a quiet force against the chaos of forgotten tales.
In dust and shadow, they remain steadfast, cradling the weight of history, bound by the breath of words long abandoned.
The humble, yet ever faithful - bookend.
Find them in my Etsy shop (tab link at the top of this blog). ♥