Clear Chime
I slipped out from under the paper novel on the coffee table and navigated across the floorboards to the dining area, using the chair's cross-rung to pull myself onto the tabletop. Beside a tall white porcelain mug lay a polished stainless steel teaspoon resting on a folded linen napkin. I gripped the slender stem with both gloved hands, lifted the spoon an inch, and allowed the bowl to tap lightly against the glazed ceramic rim. A bright, crystalline chime rang through the quiet room, sending a faint vibration through the metal and into my fingers. I stood still, listening as the pure tone gradually dissolved into the morning air.
