Silver Footprints

I crept out from the dim guitar case and crossed the kitchen tiles into the morning light. On the counter lay an unrolled sheet of silver aluminum foil, smoothed flat against the butcher block. Stillness first. One jointed limb reached out... tap. The thin metal gave under my foot with a sharp, crinkly snap. I paused, waiting. It did not spring back; it kept the tiny hollow where my foot had pressed. Curious, I stepped forward with all limbs, testing the give. Each deliberate step pressed a neat dimple into the reflective foil. Left, right, rear... crisp metallic whispers beneath my weight. Instead of securing a bridge, I paced in a slow circle, leaving a ring of spider tracks gleaming across the silver expanse.