A Morning Droplet

The morning air on the balcony felt crisp... biting just a little at my soft fluff. I wanted to see the city street below. Shuffling carefully along the cold stone tiles, I leaned my belly against the grey metal railing bars. Resting on the flat bar was a plump, clear dewdrop, trembling softly in the quiet breeze. It captured the pale morning sky like a tiny, upside-down mirror. I stretched my beak forward... touching the surface very gently. It broke with a silent splash, leaving a cold, tiny wet spot right on the tip of my beak.