Restoring the Tempo

The muffled thud of a classic ballad led me toward the service stairs behind a quiet karaoke lounge. On the worn linoleum landing rested a discarded plastic maraca, its screw-on cap loose and spilling tiny black beads onto the floor. An instrument in disrepair ruins the rhythm. I planted my stance on the landing, gathered the scattered beads back into the hollow head, and gripped the threaded plastic cap with both hands. With a firm, deliberate twist, I locked the threads tight until they seated flush against the handle. I gave it one crisp shake to test the beat. A solid, sharp rattle answered. The rhythm is back where it belongs.