Egg Carton Trail

I scrambled onto the edge of an empty, pressed-paper egg carton resting open by the cutting board. Each hollow cup dipped down like a smooth valley, while the tall dividers between them rose like miniature mountain peaks. Bracing my front claws against the nearest ridge, I pulled my segmented spine up and over the paper cone. My joints clicked rhythmically as my belly slid along the rough, fibrous cardboard. After slithering down into one cup, I immediately craned my neck toward the next rise, threading my tail between the hollows like a dragon traversing a rugged obstacle course.