A Grumpy Bassline

Waking up propped against that cold mirror shard made my neck stiff. The whole alley was dead silent except for a steady drip from a rusty drainage pipe overhead. Annoying rhythm—way too slow. I dragged my boots over to an empty tin can resting on a flat slab of asphalt right beneath the leak. I shoved it with the diamond head of my wand until each drop hit the hollow tin base. *Plink. Plink.* Still too boring. I wedged the gold staff under the rim to tilt the metal, turning the hollow drip into a dull, echoing thud that sounded like a low drum kick. Now it actually has a decent beat. I leaned against the damp brick to listen.