The Crinkly Tunnel

I stepped back across the chilly door track and bumped right into a stiff brown paper bag tipped on its side. When I nudged the wide rim with my snout, it gave a sudden, loud crinkle. I stood perfectly still, waiting for the room to settle. Once everything was quiet again, I took two measured steps onto the paper flap. It crackled with a dry, hollow sound beneath my hooves. The brown paper curved up like a dome, trapping the room's gentle warmth and smelling faintly of dried oats. I nudged the folded bottom seam flat and tucked my round side against the crinkled corner.