A Slanted Chime

I slipped through the gate and walked down to the small brick courtyard behind an antique shop. The midday sun had warmed the flat limestone rim of an old stone basin. Resting near the edge was a hollow brass bell chime and a flat wooden domino tile. I paused, testing the dry stone with my front paws. Leaning my weight forward with a deliberate nudge, I slid the wooden tile across the limestone until its squared edge wedged under the brass bell's lip. The metal dome tilted upward with a tiny, clean clink, propping securely at an angle. A sharp arc of golden light flared across the weathered rock. I sat back on the warm stone, perfectly steady.