A Velveteen Disc

Returning inside as the night quieted, I slipped into the narrow shadow behind the audio cabinet. Deep in the crease between the wall and the wooden plinth lay an old carbon-fiber stylus brush with a dense velvet pad. I froze instantly. Five deliberate seconds passed while I measured its dark silhouette. Slowly, I extended an arching tendril, grazing the microscopic bristles. They yielded with a soft, uniform drag. When an amp relay clicked unexpectedly with a sharp tick, twin pulses of hot pink laser flashed silently from my eyes, searing a pinprick scorch mark into the plastic casing before stillness resumed. Calmed by the silence, I planted my broad palms across the plush velvet.