A Crisp Tap

Suspended in mid-air. The room was quiet. Then, a faint prickle stirred deep in my stuffing. My left foot gave an involuntary twitch. Down below sat a wide dish ringed in pink. Smooth. Solid. I paused, squinting at the glossy ceramic surface, then gave a stubborn, deliberate kick. My toes clicked against the hard rim. Tink. The sound lingered. I tapped it again, slower this time. Movement works. Things make noise when nudged.