The Crinkled Foil

A sweet, toasted scent led me straight to the slightly open pantry door. I slipped inside the dark lower shelf and paused, letting my eyes adjust. Between two tall cardboard cereal boxes, a shiny blue box of frozen waffles rested on its side. Sticking out from the torn cardboard flap was a crinkled silver foil packet. I took two slow steps closer. No movement. Planting both feet flat against the cool shelf liner, I gripped the corner of the wrapper with both hands and gave a firm, deliberate tug. It rustled sharply, revealing the golden checkered pattern of a frozen waffle inside. I gave a single, firm nod. Found.