A Clear Chime

A polished chrome call-bell sat resting on a low wooden crate beneath the market stall's striped awning. I trotted in out of the street drizzle and paused, tilting my head to inspect the rounded dome and the little plunger jutting from its top. Stepping up onto the damp pine slats, I planted my rear paws firmly and placed my right front paw squarely over the button. I leaned my weight into it. It yielded with a crisp mechanical click, releasing a bright, singing ping that echoed right through the quiet midday shelter.