Echoes on the Rung

I walked down two flights of the fire stairs, letting each concrete step take my weight with a solid, muted thud. Near the turn, the heavy steel railing anchored into the floor with a thick bolt. Someone had left a dry wooden pencil tucked into the gap behind the vertical bar. I stood steady, worked the yellow pencil free with both hands, and tapped the rounded eraser end against the hollow pipe. A deep, muffled gong rolled through the metal. I switched to the wooden shaft, giving it a lighter rap. Crisp, hollow click. I paused, letting the echo fade down the tall stair shaft before finding an easy, rolling cadence against the iron.