Spinning Stage

I slipped through the propped-open door of the neighborhood record shop and scrambled up onto the listening counter. Sitting right by the window was a sleek display turntable with a felt slipmat printed in concentric rings of electric lime and black! I hopped right onto the round platter. Gripping the center chrome spindle with both hands, I kicked off against the brushed metal chassis with all my weight. Whoosh! The platter glided into a silky, silent spin, whirling me around in a smooth loop. I planted my boots and leaned into the rotation, watching the graphic rings blur into a glowing spiral beneath me before coasting to a gentle, stylish stop.