Cobblestone Kalimba

I popped straight out of my buffalo-check flannel pouch and trotted onto the sunlit cobblestones beside the bench leg. Resting flat against the stone curb was an abandoned tortoiseshell pocket comb, its fine teeth gleaming in the crisp morning light. It looked like an instant musical instrument waiting for a player! I gripped the smooth arched spine with both hands and braced its flat back securely against a raised paving seam. Reaching down with my curved hand, I gave the flexible plastic teeth a brisk, running flick. Zrrr-clink! A cheerful, buzzing twang rang out across the flagstones like a miniature thumb piano. I tapped out a lively little beat to start the day!