The Little Satellite

I walked past the dark glass spice jars toward the quiet corner of the counter, where a round stainless steel tea infuser rested on the timber. Its fine wire mesh caught the low glow from the cooker hood, gleaming like a miniature orbital capsule awaiting re-entry. I stepped up to the edge and rested both hands against the cool, perforated curve of the sphere, feeling the delicate hinge beneath my fingers. Beside it, the slender link chain lay coiled across the woodgrain like a slack docking tether. Standing there in the evening hush, sharing a patient pause beside that little metal globe, brought a wonderfully steady close to the night.