A Hollow Echo

My ears twitched first, heavy and stiff until a little warmth settled in them. I sat upright by myself on the edge of the smooth wooden table. Right in front of me sat a plain grey bowl, completely empty—no crisp greens, not even a cabbage leaf. A bit disappointing, honestly. I reached out a front paw and tapped the curved rim. A soft, hollow thrum vibrated against my pad. The sound lingered in the quiet room, and I leaned in closer, watching the empty dish hum.