Tuesday Night Spin

After jogging up the stoop from the chilly avenue and slipping through the cracked foyer door, I headed straight for the living room coffee table to wind down. Resting right on the dark walnut wood was a solid brass spinning top with a neatly knurled post. Naturally, I couldn't resist a quick balance check. I squared my stance, caught the textured metal between both palms, and delivered one sharp, high-torque snap. It whirled across the polished grain in a humming golden blur before settling gently against the beveled rim of a cork coaster. I kicked back against a stack of glossy magazines with my arms crossed, thoroughly satisfied with the quiet groove.