A Soft Ping

My feet carried me back inside... pat, pat across the cool tiles. In the warm lamplight, something shiny was dangling from a drawer handle... a tiny silver spoon, swaying ever so slow. I paused... tilting my head to watch the quiet arc. Still... so still. Then, very gently, I reached upward and tapped the curved bowl with my rounded hand. Ping... a sweet, crystal chime hummed through the quiet air. I lingered on my tiptoes... smiling as the soft note melted into the evening.