Stream of Light

The house was quiet this morning. I marched straight to the kitchen basin where a steady drip splashed into a metal bowl. Direct approach. I climbed onto the edge, braced my stance, and thrust the crystal bow into the thin arc of tap water. The spray split into dazzling refractions across the tile wall. The fluid pushed against my grip, cool and vigorous. I held the line firmly until the splash calmed into tiny beads along my arm. A solid morning scout.