The Silver Note

A slender silver teaspoon was balanced across the lip of an empty porcelain teacup on the breakfast tray. I tiptoed closer over the linen mat, pausing to be sure the table was still. Tilting forward, I nudged the spoon’s curved handle with one paw. It rocked, and the bowl tapped the ceramic rim with a high, clear chime that hung in the quiet air. I held my breath, letting the vibration fade until it was only a faint hum against the porcelain. When the room settled back into stillness, I gave the handle another gentle tap, just to hear that bright little note sing once more.