A Rolled Tin Can

A round tin soup can slipped sideways from the top of the recycling bin and hit the linoleum floor with a sharp, hollow thud. It began rolling across the open floor toward the pantry door. I stepped out from the hallway threshold and followed at an even, deliberate pace. When the can slowed to a gentle wobble, I extended my right front paw and stopped it against the bottom rim. The thin ribbed metal shuddered against my claws, sending a high-pitched, metallic rasp buzzing directly through the circular speaker plate in my chest. I kept my paw planted firmly until the metal ring faded into complete quiet.