The Needle Drop

I walked slowly back inside from the balcony as the shadows lengthened across the floorboards. In the low alcove beside the media cabinet, a turntable rested on a dark shelf, its power indicator glowing faintly amber. I waited in the quiet for several breaths. Then, stepping close, I lifted one paw and gently tapped the heavy cue lever downward. The arm dropped with a subtle, mechanical clink. When the diamond stylus met the spiraling black vinyl, a soft hiss flared into life, followed by a low, rhythmic hum humming straight through the wooden cabinet top into my paws.