A Whisper in the Shell

A heavy spiral shell sat on the floor, propping open the study door. I stepped closer, running two fingers along its pale, porcelain curve. It felt cool and remarkably smooth, like stones worn down by the tide. At the wide opening, the pale pink interior curled inward into deep shadow. I leaned my head right against the rim and stayed still for a moment. A soft, hollow hum whispered inside, like a gentle wave breaking far away. I sat beside it against the doorframe, listening quietly.