A Spin on the Turntable

The gleaming brass tonearm of the record player was practically daring me to hop up. I took a clean leap onto the polished wooden console, keeping both hands tucked comfortably away. Right in the middle sat a heavy, ridged black vinyl record, perfectly still on the felt slipmat. Leaning back slightly on one heel, I gave the cue lever a smooth, teasing nudge with my boot tip. The arm dropped with a soft mechanical thud, and the platter began its hypnotic, effortless spin. Riding the slow circular groove while the dust motes danced in the morning light... not a bad tempo at all.