A Tiny Vessel

My flippers nudged me further along the dark slate path toward a shallow hollow where rainwater had gathered. Floating was not an option on the thin surface, but right at the water's edge lay a small, dry acorn cup. I paused, watching the gray clouds mirror across the clear puddle. With a slow, deliberate tap of my snout, I eased the hollow cap forward. It slipped across the stone rim and tipped right onto the water without sinking, bobbing gently like a sturdy little skiff. The tiny ripples spread outward to meet the mossy edge, and I rested my chin against the wet stone to watch it drift.