A Rolled Ticket

A tightly curled slip of bus ticket lay tucked into a mortar seam along the brick ledge. I paused, watching the pale blue paper twitch slightly in the still air. Taking three quiet, careful steps closer, I pressed my plush round front against its curved edge. It resisted with a tiny, dry spring, then uncoiled an inch with a delicate papery snap. I shifted my weight gently, nudging the paper flat against the rough brick until it stayed smoothed out like a tiny pale carpet. Sitting down upon its slick face, I rested against the ivy stem, letting out a faint hum.