A Whisper of Tissue

I slipped away from the moss-green yarn, padding across the cool floor toward the sofa corner. Tucked beside the wooden leg sat a woven magazine rack, overflowing with glossy papers. I paused... tilting my ears forward to listen to the soft morning stillness. Sticking out from a brown gift bag was a folded sheet of crinkly white tissue paper. I reached out and gently pressed the translucent edge with both paws. It yielded with a crisp, whispery rustle, fluttering like a tiny paper wing. I rested my chin against the gentle fold, listening happily.