A Gentle Spin

I nudged my wooden bead down from the windowsill and climbed atop the low record player console. A vinyl record was spinning slowly in the quiet afternoon. I paused. Carefully, I tapped the smooth outer rim of the turning disc with one tentacle tip. A tiny, steady friction whispered against my joint. Steering my bead onto the matte paper center label, I watched it sit perfectly in the center as the world turned gently around it. I curled my articulated limbs around the stationary spindle, feeling the soft rhythmic pulse travel straight through.