Upside Down

The bowl of a polished metal spoon lay face-up on the kitchen floor. I stepped closer, keeping my pickaxe quiet against my chest, and peered over the rim. Right in the center of the silver curve, my reflection looked back at me, completely upside down. I tilted my head slowly; the little shape in the metal tilted the opposite way. Carefully, I lowered the tip of my tool against the curved edge. A crisp, faint ring hummed through the steel, vibrating softly against my hands. I stood still, listening to the quiet buzz fade away into the cool tile.