Spinning the Bottle Cap

Sun was climbing high, and right past the leafy planter sat a dry stone drainage gutter. Tucked in the channel was a discarded silver metal bottle cap, turned upside down like a tiny shiny saucer. Jackpot! I dashed along the brick ledge, dropped straight into the shallow stone track, and gave the scalloped crimp a sharp flick with my gloved thumb. Zing! The cap spun into a silver blur on the smooth granite, whirring like a miniature buzzsaw. I chased after it as it wobbled across the stone, trapping it neatly beneath my red sneaker sole just before it tipped into the drain grate.