A golden ribbon stretched across three shelves. Daria had tied it herself because the library had received fifty new books and she wanted the small ceremony to look respectable. Her husband Bojan, who worked in a local workshop, had agreed to move tables after his shift. The donor Radovan arrived in a suit with a pocket square matching the ribbon. She found that charming. Only later did she wonder whether the resemblance was accidental.
After a short speech, Radovan approached the shelves and explained how the books should be kept. Each should carry his name. Daria had already accepted a discreet gift acknowledgement. But now he added that the copies must not leave the library. People folded pages, spilled coffee, and lost jackets. He wanted his collection to look exactly the same ten years later as it did that afternoon.
Daria held the scissors meant to cut the ribbon. Among the guests stood a reader already waiting for a new novel, a woman who read on the bus to work. Beside her a pensioner was studying a book about fruit trees. Both had heard that Radovan's generosity should remain behind glass that had not even been purchased yet. Daria put down the scissors. She said the books had been accepted for lending.
Radovan laughed, convinced they were negotiating a minor point. He offered to pay for glass doors too. Daria repeated that the library needed books people could use. He then looked towards Bojan and asked whether he could help explain the gift's value. Still in his work shirt, Bojan said his wife understood that better than he did. That was his entire contribution.
The ceremony became awkward. One guest suggested exceptions for reliable readers only. The pensioner asked how one proved reliability regarding a plum tree. Someone laughed. Radovan requested that the conversation continue privately. Daria agreed, but first told the guests they would announce lending arrangements once the terms were clarified. She did not cut the ribbon.
In the end the donor withdrew ten expensive editions and left the others without restrictions. There was no second ceremony. The first returned book had a folded corner on page sixty-two. Daria carefully straightened it and recorded the next loan. At home she told Bojan the day had gone well. He asked whether they had finally finished the cakes left over from the opening.