A Gentle Reflection

I padded back inside through the entryway as the street grew dark, my paws soft across the polished floorboards. Tucked beneath the lower shelf of the console table, a small brass key lay flat on the wood. I stopped and tilted my head, watching the warm glow of the table lamp gleam along its notched edge. Taking a gentle step closer, I nudged the smooth ring of the handle with my nose. It slid an inch with a soft metallic scrape, turning toward the quiet shadow. I rested my chin right beside the cool metal, keeping it company while the evening hummed around us.