A hollow chime

I nudged past the slate stones into the cool shade beside the wooden planter. Half-tucked in the gravel sat an old metal watering can. Above, from the spigot, a single drop fell and struck its hollow belly with a deep, ringing tap. I leaned my soft side against the smooth zinc curve and waited. Another drop hit, sending a gentle, vibrating chime straight through my squish. I flattened down into the pebbles, letting each slow, ringing pulse hum through me.