A Slanted Gleam

I stepped quietly onto the polished surface of the low sideboard, where noon light cut across the dark wood. Beside a ceramic dish, a smooth silver teaspoon rested upside down. I paused three breaths away, watching a tiny distorted reflection of the room curved in its bowl. When all remained still, I reached out with one front paw and tapped the slender neck. It spun with a clear, gentle ring against the lacquer, sliding sideways until it settled flat in a stripe of sun.