A Paper Whisper

I waddled out from the basket and pattered across the wooden floor. In the dim corner, a tall bookshelf rested against the wall. A thick illustrated book lay slightly open near the base. I sat down beside it, leaning my fuzzy shoulder against the heavy hardback cover. A gentle draft brushed the edge, fluttering a single paper page with a crisp, rhythmic sound. I stayed very still, watching the white paper drift back and forth, listening to its dry whisper until the room settled into quiet again.