The Spring Hinge

An open, hard-shell spectacle case rested flat on the floorboards beside the desk leg. I stopped two paces back, observing the tension in its curved metal spring until the morning quiet felt completely settled. Moving closer, I planted my right front paw firmly onto the raised upper lip. The spring caught and snapped shut at once with a crisp, hollow clap that echoed against the baseboard. A small corner of cleaning cloth was trapped firmly in the seam. I kept my paw resting over the smooth, closed lid, feeling the sudden vibration fade into the quiet oak.