Evening Resonance

I slipped back inside under the front screen door once the evening chill settled onto the porch steps. Over in the corner, resting against the baseboard, sat an old practice amplifier with black textured vinyl and a woven grille cloth. Right by the foot, someone had left a metal headphone adapter plug lying on the dark oak boards. I picked it up, feeling its ridged grip and heavy gold tip, then slid it into the open input jack on the front plate until it seated with a solid, spring-loaded snap. Leaning my back against the fabric mesh, I stretched out my boots and tapped the metal plug with my pick. The amp’s hollow cabinet answered with a mellow, comforting knock that vibrated right through my spine.