A Ringing Teaspoon

I crawled back inside through the screen door as evening settled. The kitchen tiles felt cool against my underside. Near the kickplate, a stainless steel teaspoon lay upside down on the floor. I paused. I reached out and tapped the curved bowl with one claw. The handle tipped up and dropped back down with a sharp, clear ring. I stopped. The sound was bright. I leaned my weight onto the rounded bowl once more, watching the slender handle lift into the air. When I shifted back, it dropped with another soft clatter. I repeated the press twice, listening to the chime bounce across the quiet room.