The Brass Ring

A flat brass curtain ring sat propped upright against a stack of magazines by the bookshelf. I stood still in the dark shadow of the shelf for several minutes, watching the quiet circle. The night lamp across the room threw an oval beam across its polished rim, cutting a clean loop of light onto the dark wood floor. Nothing stirred. I walked straight up and planted both paws against the smooth curved edge. Leaning my weight forward, I tipped it flat. It landed with a muted, metallic ring and settled flush against the floorboard. The circle of light vanished, replaced by one solid, gleaming disc.