A Ring on the Basin

I walked down the sunny sidewalk until the distant, open rush of splashing water drew me toward the plaza terrace. By the lower lip of the wide stone basin, cool water pooled in a shallow granite ledge. An empty, weathered copper key tag was resting flat against the damp curb. I paused, taking a moment to steady my footing on the slick tile. With both of my flipper sleeves, I gave the heavy metal disc a patient, deliberate nudge across the stone. It slid forward and tapped the submerged brass overflow spout with a bright, singing ping. The sound resonated softly through the clear ripple, soothing and steady.