A Resting Flight

I walked back through the front door after an afternoon outside, glad to find the living room resting in dim twilight. On the glass surface of the coffee table, a folded paper crane had slipped on its side, tipped over by a draft near an open ceramic mug. Its creased wing was bent awkwardly beneath its body. I stepped over a forgotten coaster, crouched low, and pressed my thumbs gently along the fold until the crease held straight again. Standing it upright beside the mug, it caught the faint light from the hallway, sturdy and properly balanced.