The Silver Flap

A hop down the fire escape brought my feet onto the round marble top of an outdoor café table. Right beside a ribbed saucer sat a heavy fluted glass jar, capped with a shiny metal spout? I paused. Left eye first, then a slow tilt to the right to measure the hinged silver lid? Three deliberate steps brought me square against it. Tap. My beak nudged the little flap with a clean, sharp clink! It flipped open on its tiny pivot, rocking once before snapping shut with a bright ting. A springy little door? I lowered my balance and tapped it twice more, admiring the quick silver bounce.