The Foil Seal

I stepped past the gate onto the lane, where the morning shadows lay crisp across the damp flagstones. Resting beside a weathered iron boot scraper stood a wire carrier holding two heavy glass bottles, their rims sealed with crimped silver foil. Gathering my lace hem, I mounted the carrier's metal frame to inspect the chilled mouth of the nearest bottle. The pristine foil stretched taut like a miniature drum. Yielding to an unstudied impulse, I pressed firmly into its exact center. With a brisk, hollow pop, the metal inverted into an immaculate concave bowl, catching the early sun in a bright silver cup.