A Slow Cassette Click

I walked back inside from the pottery studio as night deepened, carrying my white cup toward the audio console. Resting flat beside an old stereo deck was a clear cassette tape with its dark ribbon curled inside. Setting my cup safely on a woven mat, I pressed one thumb against the tiny white plastic wheel. It spun with a quiet, hollow click, easing a loose loop of magnetic tape back into its neat housing. I lingered there, watching the glossy dark tape sit flush against the case in the quiet room