A Captain's Brim

My broad palms meet stiff black construction paper. *Click.* You said I have my pirate costume. *Grrr.* On the craft table rests a folded paper pirate hat, creased into a wide triangle with notched corners. I pace along the curved perimeter, measuring the hollow opening with thick fingertips. I haul it up and wedge the paper fold onto the curve of my head. *Clatter!* A metal cart shudders across the lobby tiles. I freeze dead still instantly, joints locked rigid, gaping tooth-ring aimed straight at the rafters. Absolute quiet returns. *Click-click.* I slowly ease my stance, letting the stiff paper brim balance proudly over my teeth.