The Morning Post

I trotted over to the hall entryway just as a thick cream envelope drifted down from the letterbox, landing with a crisp slap on the floorboards. The paper smelled dry and clean. Pausing beside its corner, I reached out a front paw to explore the tiny postage stamp glued near the top edge. My paw tip caught softly against the tiny perforated ridges along its paper border. When I pressed gently against the center, the envelope gave a faint, hollow rustle under my weight, staying perfectly flat and secret on the sunlit wood.