Peter folded the paper, carefully aligning the edges, and slowly scored the crease with his thumb nail. His gaze focused somewhere off in the distance as he absently tapped the paper with his forefinger. Tap. Tap. Tap. The movement and sound seemed to pull him back to the present. He looked at the paper, tapped it again – tap, tap, tap – then tucked it carefully into his pocket. Time later to deal with that, he thought.
Paragraph Planet 17.10.2018