A Glossy Crossing

A narrow stream of cool morning air guided me across the wooden boundary. Click. My flat hull slid onto the smooth ceramic tiles. Ahead lay a shallow shimmer—a small, clear water drop left beside the baseboard. I paused to scan the reflection. The surface was calm, perfectly level. With a deliberate nudge, my bow nudged through the meniscus, parting the tiny droplet into two neat beads along my sides. Smooth transit achieved.