The Glass Jar Echo

I crept along the bottom shelf of a dusty wooden rack and bumped right into a heavy, discarded glass jar lying on its side. Its interior was hollow, cold, and utterly pitch-black. I poked my upper tendril inside to inspect the smooth curved glass, then let out a low, raspy hiss directly into the opening. The sound bounced around the glass cylinder, magnifying into an eerie metallic rumble that tickled my skull. Pleased with the dreadful resonance, I wedged my front limbs against the rim, listening closely as the hollow vibrations slowly dissolved into the dark.