The Glowing Columns

I stepped past the porch threshold and followed the cool concrete walkway out toward the street corner. Beneath an iron lamppost stood a tall vending machine, glowing brightly against a dark brick wall. Through the glass, rows of metal cans rose in immaculate vertical columns. I paused a few paces back, observing the sharp reflections cutting across the polished surface. Walking forward with measured steps, I raised my long arm and rested my hand against the lower edge of the pane. A steady, rhythmic hum vibrated through the glass beneath my touch. Every cylinder inside remained perfectly upright and still.