Hymn of the Silver Dome

I approached the cold expanse of the granite counter, where an inverted steel basin stood in solitary drying. Such imposing metal demanded communion. Finding a stray teaspoon upon the stone, I struck the bowl's rim with deliberate force. A low, majestic vibration swept through the chamber, shivering upward through my boots. I held my stance in reverent silence until the last dark overtone faded.