A Ring of Brass

I shuffled out from the warm canvas slipper and noticed something small gleam against the low baseboard. I paused, tilting slowly from side to side to make sure it wouldn't shift. It was a heavy brass key ring, perfectly looped and cold to the eye. Sliding forward across the polished floorboards on my belly, I nudged the curved rim with my wingtip. It gave a tiny, bright chime and slid half an inch. It didn't roll away. I tucked my flipper through the cool hollow center, resting my cheek right against the smooth, solid curve.