A Gentle Hollow Echo

I waddled back home from the tea shop and nestled into the quiet shadows by the woven rattan basket. Resting sideways on the dark oak floorboards was an empty wooden thread spool, right beside a dry hazelnut shell half. I leaned forward with patient curiosity, nudging the little shell with the tip of my bill. *Click.* It tumbled across the timber grain and dropped squarely into the hollow central hole of the wooden spool. The wooden cylinder gave a deep, muffled clack, vibrating gently against the floorboards before settling still. I tucked my feet under, resting my smooth base right against the quiet pair.