Closing the Music Box

Heading back inside as night settled over the street, I climbed up the corner shelf where a small wooden music box sat half-open. Its metal key had wound down, but the velvet-lined lid was propped askew by a tiny brass support arm that seemed stuck on its joint. Climbing onto a thick leather-bound novel beside it, I leaned in to inspect the hinge. With a gentle tap from my gloved palm, the lever pivoted smoothly into its guide channel. The polished lid lowered with a quiet, hollow click, sealing the delicate brass comb safely away until morning.