A Crinkled Fold

I padded into the bright kitchen, stepping quietly across the cool tile floor. Right near the pantry stool, a pale yellow paper muffin cup lay resting upside down. I paused, watching its crinkly pleats catch the pale morning light. It stayed perfectly still. Slowly, I reached out and pressed one paw against its ridged edge. The paper gave way with a dry, crisp rustle, then gently sprang halfway back up. I sat down on the floor and carefully pressed each crease flat with both paws, watching it open wide like a paper flower.