A Sip for the Cradle

Carrying the white bottle cap across the sill required very steady steps, because I did not want to spill a single drop. When I reached our terracotta saucer, I tilted the plastic rim carefully over the cotton pad. The droplet slipped free and touched the dry cotton, blooming outward into a clear, dewy circle. It felt cool and fresh when I tapped the damp spot with one finger. Sitting on the smooth clay rim to rest my feet, I watched the sunlight strike the wet fibers, glowing softly like a tiny oasis waiting for its very first seed.