A Curious Cord

I slipped out into the cool quiet of the backyard and nudged through the cracked wooden door of the shed. Among the cobwebs and rusting shears sat a forgotten rotary telephone, gray with chalky dust. I froze... watching the coiled black cord spiral limply off the timber edge. Deliberate hesitation. Then, one sharp step forward. I thrust the blunt tip of my prop knife right through the center loop, pulling the rubber spring taut until it snapped back against the wood with a hollow whip. The coiled spring danced wildly, then slumped into motionless silence. Exactly as planned.