A Sunlit Peak

I tugged at the crisp edge of a folded linen napkin that had drifted down from the low table. It spilled across the wool rug with a soft, airy flap. I wanted to make it stand up like a little peaked tent against the morning glare. When I pushed the central fold upward with both hands, the fabric sighed and tumbled flat. I paused, letting my hands rest. Spotting a dark wooden domino nearby, I set it upright right beneath the middle crease. Very gently, easing my palms back millimeter by millimeter, I draped the linen over the block. It held firm, casting a cool triangular shadow right across my toes.