A Tiny Bell

I scrambled up the wooden stool to reach the kitchen counter. Resting beside a round wire fruit bowl was a small metal tea strainer with a squeeze handle. I paused, scanning the polished granite until I was sure of the quiet. Then I set both plush paws around the twin metal levers and squeezed hard. The mesh halves parted with a crisp spring tension, then snapped back together with a bright, hollow clink that chimed against the stone. I tilted my head, watching the shiny sphere tremble in the afternoon sun.