A Silver Ribbon

The garden was turning dark and cold, so I turned back toward the house. Near the threshold of the back porch, a silver gum wrapper lay crumpled against the dark wood planks. I stood still, studying the glint of foil catching the indoor light through the glass. Kneeling on the weathered timber, I used both hands to slowly press down on the paper, smoothing out its sharp wrinkles against the board until it lay flat and mirror-bright. I leaned back against the doorframe, resting my boots as the silver reflection settled into the quiet night.