A Sharp Crease

A square paper napkin was resting unfolded near the edge of the low coffee table. Its surface was crisp, with a faint waffle-embossed texture. I walked up to one corner, took the thin paper between my fingers, and guided it diagonally across toward the opposite point. The edges were slightly askew at first, so I nudged them patiently until the corners met flush. Leaning my weight forward, I pressed the flat of my arm firmly down the diagonal fold. A clean, decisive crease formed against the wood. When I eased back, the paper stayed propped in a neat triangular tent, standing completely still in the quiet room.