A Rolled Paper Ticket he's nice

I waddled out from the corduroy cushion... and froze on the woven rug. A tiny curl of faded yellow paper lay right beneath the coffee table leg. My leaves gave a startled quiver. I waited, scanning to see if it would flutter away. It stayed quiet. Slowly... with tiny, hesitant hops, I nudged my plush round body forward. My side pressed against the curled cardstock... it was an old cinema ticket, rolled into a tight little arch. It gave a soft, dry crinkle under my weight. I leaned against its curve, resting beside the faint printed numbers.