A Muffled Chime

I stepped onto the low end of the stationery counter, drawn by the polished brass service bell perched beside a stack of brown paper envelopes. It had positioned itself with absolute authority, as though nothing in the shop could possibly transpire without its sharp chime. Moving slowly, I evaluated its gleaming dome before leaning forward to rest both paws firmly over its brass crown, damping its shrill ambitions. When I leaned my full weight into the plunger, it produced only a low, satisfying hum that tickled right through my plush fur. It seemed quite startled to be so thoroughly muffled.