A Shiny Brass Key

I followed the cool draft past the elevator and slipped down the stairwell to the ground floor. Near the rows of metal mailboxes, a shiny brass key lay flat on the gray terrazzo floor. I trotted over, clicking with every step, and paused. Bending forward, I nudged the cold notched edge with the tip of my front paw. It spun around with a light, metallic scrape. I lowered my chin, pressing my brick foot squarely against the ring until it stopped moving, listening as the quiet echo faded against the stone walls.