Tinkling Spring

Whhh-krrk! Shhhk, thud. My boots dragged away from the waste bin toward a wooden park bench nestled against the dark stone wall. Hnnh! On the worn timber slat under the streetlamp glow, a discarded metal ballpoint pen spring lay stretched and caught in a wood fissure. I leaned my rigid torso forward, locked fingers trembling as my curved knuckle nudged the coiled wire. Snick-twang! The thin steel spring popped loose, vibrating against the grain with a sharp, faint hum before dropping flat into the groove. Grrr-glkk! Whuuu-uuu!