Unfolding

She knew, even before she touched it, what it would be. Once she opened the padded plain envelope and tipped out the small gift-wrapped box into her hand, she knew.

She knew it would be small, tasteful, discreet. Something subtle to wear on her ears or around her neck, perhaps even on her finger. But no, not a ring. He would have to know her size. He would not guess, and as far as she knew, he did not know the size of her fingers with any accuracy.

She put the small present down on the table next to the chair where she sat with her legs tucked up underneath her, she pulled her dressing gown down to cover her bare legs. Although it was spring, it was still sometimes chilly in the mornings, this morning in particular with touches of frost here and there on the lawn outside her window.

She turned away from looking out through the window and looked down at the padded envelope in her hands. She had not realised that she had been attempting to fold it, neaten it, tidy it up. Annoyed with herself she dropped the envelope onto the table next to her and picked up the small present, watching the envelope unfolding itself.

Typical, she thought, no matter how I try to straighten things out, tidy them up, everything always seems to unfold in front of me.