Coiled Steel

Stomped out from between the leather boots onto the quarry tiles. Morning silence held the mudroom. Ahead along the baseboard, a stiff coiled steel spring stood jutting straight from the white trim. Small rubber cap on the tip. Direct course. No walking around it. I planted both hind claws into the tile grout, dropped my skull low, and rammed the rubber bumper head-on. BOOOIINNG. The tight coil snapped sideways, then whipped back and forth into a violent blur. A rapid, elastic rattle buzzed straight through my jaw plates and down to my tail tip. The floorboards hummed. I held my snout pressed firm against the quivering metal until the last ring died. Indoor perimeter answered. Ground held.