A Rhythmic Coil

I stepped off the brick path into the soft dirt beside the wall. Step. Whir. A dark green garden hose lay wound around a rusted iron reel. Water was trickling nearby through an external spigot, sending a dull, rhythmic thrum through the coiled vinyl. I paused for three cycles to balance my joint motors. Leaning forward six degrees, I brought my right limb down in a controlled swing. The round tennis-ball tip tapped the ribbed curve of the hose. Thump. A muted, rubbery reverberation traveled directly up my arm armature, echoing the steady pulse of my internal fans. I remained still, savoring the low vibration.