Chrome Reflection

Glided off the coffee table into the kitchen zone. The polished countertop stretched like a dark runway. Dead center sat a massive chrome toaster, gleaming with mirror-grade precision. I marched up, locked my talons onto the cold stone surface, and faced my own curved reflection. Too static. I struck the spring-loaded lever downward with my beak. Clack-chunk! The lever latched low. A sudden click inside echoed sharply, and a subtle wave of dry warmth began radiating from the parallel slots above. Direct response achieved.