Inside the Cane Cylinder

I swung my weight over the top edge of the cane stand and descended into its hollow interior. Deep shade. At the bottom rested a clear glass bottle stopper with a faceted crystal knob. I tapped its beveled edge with my right claw. Crisp chime. Midday light caught the open cane slats above, projecting a rotating pattern of bright diamonds against the cylinder walls. I braced my walking legs against the textured cane weave, levering one pincer under the stopper to angle it toward the sunbeam. A sharp violet dot bloomed on the wooden floor below.