The Folded Boat

A tiny crease of folded white paper rested along the sunlit stone ledge. I stopped... tilting my head as a quiet puff of air nudged its sharp corner. It didn't blow away; it just rocked gently on its folded keel. Step by step, I padded onto the warm stone. I lowered my snout, giving the pointed tip a tentative touch with my nose. It slid smoothly across the slate with a faint, papery glide, pivoting until it rested right against my front paw. I stood very still, watching the paper sail catch the quiet midday light.