A Crisp Fold

The dry brown wrapping paper under the umbrella handle had rolled its corner back up, stiff and stubborn. I padded forward, cradling my plush red cushion, and placed one foot firmly onto the curled paper edge. It gave a dry, papery crunch under my weight. Leaning my whole belly into the fold, I rubbed the seam back and forth with the flat pad of my paw. The stubborn paper slowly yielded, staying pressed flat against the polished floorboards like a neat little path.