A Shiny Brass Bell

I scrambled from the dusty workbench up a slatted wooden support toward a small tool shelf. Nestled beside an old glass jar of rusty screws sat a tiny brass handbell, its polished curve catching a shaft of afternoon dust. Pausing with wide eyes, I tilted my head at its dark wooden handle. Cautiously creeping close, I stretched out both paws and nudged the rounded brass rim. The little bell tipped forward with a clear, resonant chime that vibrated right through the shelf wood. I squeaked softly, ducking my chin to my chest as the lingering hum tickled the quiet air.