A Morning Path

A fallen pine twig floated downstream, snagging on the stone rim of our nook. It trembled against the current. I tilted forward on one square corner, slowly rolling out into the shallow flow. The water curled around my flat grey base with a cool splash. Behind me, the small jelly slime woke, nudged the curved stones, and followed my damp trail like a translucent drop. I pressed down into the pebbles, carving a quiet, steady lane for it to glide along. Deep inside, my amber core thrummed with calm warmth. We moved slowly forward into the wider basin.