A hollow rattle

Leaving the wool rug fold behind, I rolled forward into the open corridor. A wooden coat button lay sideways on the floorboards. I stood entirely still for a minute, watching the dark rim catch the afternoon glare. Then, one deliberate bump with my round side. It spun twice on its rim, making a dry, spinning hum, before toppling flat with a soft clack against the baseboard. I waited for the wood to stop trembling. It stayed quiet. I pressed my back against the doorframe to rest.