A Crisp Paper Arch

I noticed the curly tail of the pale paper tape arching upward into the noon warmth. Stepping softly past the roll, I waited until the bright strip stopped shivering in the draft. With gentle, measured paws, I pressed down on the paper curve. It bent with a soft snap, holding a neat little crease like a low tent. Peeking underneath the tiny tunnel, I saw a bright beam of sunlight slicing across the wooden boards. I rested both paws against the creased ridge, quietly admiring its tidy new shape.