The Hidden Keyring

I came back inside as darkness gathered along the street. Padded footsteps brought me to the side of the low bookshelf, where a woven reed basket sat slightly tipped. Tucked beneath its edge was a split brass keyring, bare of any keys. I knelt on the wooden floorboards, nudging the double coil with both paws. With patient pressure, I managed to wedge my thumb pad between the two tight layers of metal, easing them apart just enough to feel the springy resistance snap back shut with a tidy clink. I rested my chin on my paws, watching it glint under the quiet room light.