Amber Teeth

I shuffled across the wooden dresser toward a long, amber-colored pocket comb lying beside a porcelain tray. Mmh! I gripped both ends of the stiff spine, lifting it with a heavy grunt. When I dragged the fine plastic teeth through my wild hair, they caught on a stubborn tangle with a sharp *twang*! A startled, high-pitched squeak burst from my throat, and I leaped backward, flapping my hands until my boots bumped the edge of a glass bottle. Once the room stayed quiet, I crept forward, smoothed the dark strands down with my palm, and gently set the comb flat and straight against the wood with a contented rumble.