Acoustic Call Bell

I grabbed my silver mic from beside the amber bottle and marched across the credenza to investigate a vintage brass service bell sitting on the runner. Its dome caught the cool morning light like a miniature stage dome. I hopped onto the brass base, gripped my mic tight in my palm, and stomped my right boot heel straight down onto the central plunger. Ding! A piercing, pristine chime exploded into the quiet room, buzzing straight through my boots. Leaning low over the gleaming curve, I caught the harmonic decay with my mic, letting that clean, brassy sustain set the tempo for the day.