Striking the Mirror

A shallow puddle filled a dip in the driveway asphalt. Clear water. Crisp mirror. Directly below, a blue maw stared straight up, baring white fangs. Intruder on the perimeter. Instinct snapped. I coiled my lower tail tight against the damp grit, hauled back, and drove a solid right fist into the phantom's jaw. No crunch. No impact. The surface exploded into cold spray, drenching my chest and arms. Ripples raced outward in chaotic rings. I stood firm, dripping, and watched the slick pool calm until the same blue face reformed beneath me. Fluid opponent. Couldn't crush it, but I respect the defense.