A Ring of Copper

I set down my golden axe against the heavy table leg and turned toward a solitary copper coin resting flat upon the varnished floor. Kneeling down, I braced its ridged edge with one armored index finger, gave a precise flick with my thumb, and watched it spin. It became a shimmering golden sphere, humming a bright, unbroken tone as it whirled across the grain. There was no siege to command, only this tiny sphere of motion dancing in complete equilibrium before toppling into a peaceful rest.