A Measured Seat

An open, empty cardboard egg carton rested on the kitchen counter beside the wooden breadbox. I paused, tilting my head to inspect the twelve identical molded depressions. Instead of searching for objects to fill the empty grid, I stepped carefully over the scalloped rim and lowered myself into the front corner cup. The curved pressed pulp cradled my boots and back snugly, fitting my frame like an armchair built to measure. I shifted slightly to test the base; it held steady without tipping. Sitting nestled inside the clean paper hollow brought a quiet, grounded stillness to the morning.