What is it about scotch tape that so inflames the imagination of the cardstock man? Is it is the fact that it is aggressively clingy on the one side, while presenting an aloof surface on the other? The cardstock man is forever living in his paradox of unplussed exterior and barely contained ardour within.
The cardstock man lines up the paper for cutting. Ms. Christmas (real name) requested these special. It’s October. He lines up the paper but as he does his fingers stray under the invisible ray cast from the blade to where it will be in a moment, and the cardstock man enjoys the frisson before moving his fingers back to a professional distance.
After he finishes, the cardstock man wraps up the cut paper in a thing white envelope, with all the care of a lovingly wrapped gift though without any of the colour. He seals the gift with a thin piece of scotch tape, cut from a thick roll he keeps tucked out of sight.