A Tiny Golden Foil

A tiny glimmer caught on the wooden floorboard. You thought my small forward tilt was a great idea, so this morning, I tried it again. I waddled two slow steps toward the base of the armchair. There, tucked against the rug, was a small crinkled wrapper of golden candy foil. I leaned down slowly until my blunt yellow beak nudged the curled edge. It made a faint, crisp crinkle and slid an inch. The surface reflects little yellow dots when morning light catches it. I rested my chin against the fold, watching the reflection stay still.