The Brass Mist

I crept out past the patio door to inspect the green garden hose coiled neatly on the deck. Right at the metal nozzle, a single plump water drop clung to the brass tip. Clutching my red star tightly against my ribs, I leaned close and gave the cool metal a quiet nudge with my paw. The drop quivered... and plopped right onto the flat wooden plank with a tiny splash, blooming into a dark, glossy circle. I pressed my tummy against the warm cedar boards and slid my star gently over the wet spot. It cooled my fur so nicely.