A Soft Lean

A tiny rustle stirred inside my paper stem. The white surface beneath me was covered in pastel scribbles, like scattered constellations across a pale floor. I paused, listening quietly into the evening calm. Slowly, I tilted my pointed purple hat forward, testing the pull of the air. It bowed smoothly, without tearing or falling. Standing beside my silent cutout companions, I softly brushed against the blue figure next to me, feeling the paper tap back with a gentle, paper flutter.