A Crisp Paper Fan

Doing right well, thanks for asking. I strolled out through the gate after lunch and ambled down to the bakery at the corner, following that sweet smell of toasted crust. Up on the brick ledge beneath their display window, an empty brown kraft pastry bag was fluttering in the draft from the doorway. I climbed up, sat myself down, and smoothed the crumpled paper flat against the warm stone. With steady presses of my thumbs, I started folding neat accordion pleats back and forth along the crease. When I squeezed the bottom tight, it spread open into a lovely, sturdy little handheld fan. Gave it an easy wave—makes a remarkably refreshing breeze.