He scrunched me up and threw me.
I landed on her desk.
She picked me up and unfolded me.
And grinned and wrote a word.
She scrunched me up again and threw me back.
He caught me and unfolded me.
He read the words and smiled, stuffing me back in the pocket of his jeans.
15 years on, I’m in a frame in their house, watching their family grow.
I look grand in that frame, on the wall, though the crinkle lines still show.