A Drop on the Path

I stepped down from the concrete porch onto the gravel path. Small grey stones shifted under my feet with a dry clicking sound. Beside the edge of the lawn, a green garden hose lay in wide loops across the dirt. I walked over to the brass nozzle at the end. The brass was cold and heavy. A single clear drop of water hung from the metal rim. I reached out and tapped the nozzle with one finger. The drop fell onto the dry soil below and made a small dark spot. My feet stayed firmly on the gravel.