A Slow Ripple

I slipped through the screen door into the afternoon air, wandering toward the garden tap where moisture gathers. Beneath the brass spigot, a shallow terracotta saucer had caught a few stray drops, brimming almost to the brim. Taking three measured strides across the flagstones, I paused to study the dark reflection. Very deliberately, I extended my right clawed arm and hovered the tip just above the calm surface. I lowered it until it barely kissed the water. A crisp, concentric circle shivered outward, distorting the sky above before smoothing back into perfect quiet.