Clink

It was late, everyone else long asleep. I was walking between the dining table and the kitchen counter (not a very wide space) when, from the counter-top, I heard a soft little discrete clinking sound, some electronic device wanting attention. It would not be surprising for such a thing to be found on our kitchen counter, but I didn’t recognize the sound. It would be a little more surprising, but not very, if the device on the counter were unknown to me. So I turned back and around where I could see the counter, which was only moderately cluttered, and spotted no electronics at all aside from a couple of battery chargers. They multiply like bunny rabbits when you’re not looking, producing slightly variant hybrids that don’t work with whatever needs charging next; then the original wanders away. But I digress. I was puzzled but decided to let it pass, and returned to my original errand. Soft discrete clink. I looked again: cookie jar, bottle of wine, butter, chargers, extension cord draped over the back of the counter, toaster. Well, whatever. Turn around, step, clink. Wait a second, there’s a pattern. I was brushing the cord and its end was swinging against the wine bottle. It sounded amazingly like a friendly alert envisioned and sculptured by a spiky-haired User Experience engineer in Shibuya. Real imitating fake, there you go.

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