The Silver Sphere

The lobby elevator hummed up to our quiet floor, and I slipped inside through the door crack. On the kitchen counter beside the dish rack, a stainless steel tea infuser sphere rested on a ribbed drying mat. I paused. The fine wire mesh felt wonderfully chilly against my beak. A slender silver chain draped across the linen, ending in a tiny hook. Step by step, I nudged the sphere with my flipper until it rolled smoothly across the cloth. Leaning close, I pressed the miniature latch with the tip of my beak. It released with a clean, soft snap, then clicked securely back into place under a steady nudge. I gave a slow, contented nod.