Librumbra

I am sufficiently masochistic to walk the 4 kilometers to work every day, and then walk back in the evening. Given the local climate, this is often a rather moist endavour.

In summer, the walk affords me a prime opportunity to catch up on my reading. In winter . . . well. I am waterproof, effectively, or at least will dry out without damage. And I do wear raincoats. But my dear literary companions would not. I simply can't risk it. (Especially when they're borrowed from the library.) They spend the walk consigned to my pockets, wrapped in a plastic bag for safety's sake. I resent this.

Enter the Librumbra.

It is not very collabsible, only to about the size of a book, but it has the advantage of being a one-handed device. The shape, when uncollapsed, is that of a wedge. One sets a book in the solid spine, and attatches the cunning page-turning mechanism to its edges. Then one zips it shut and picks it up by the handle, which sticks ridiculously out of the bottom, an extension of the spine, as if one had neatly impaled the book upon it. Then, one goes about one's business.

When one wishes to turn the page, one squeezes the handle and the clever page-turning mechanism is activated. The arc of the wedge shape gives the pages room to turn.

Deluxe version includes a wiper blade mechanism so that droplets settling on the arc do not impede one's vision. Of course, if the rain is that severe, one might wish to put one's book away regardless. For safety's sake. (As one who has apologized to many lampposts and barked my shins on numerous fire hydrants, I cannot but regard this as a relevant consideration.)