Ripples in the Tumbler

Unclipping my waist from the clear support clamp took three deliberate tries, but once free, my heels met the tabletop with a sharp, tiny tap. Right beside my stand sat a heavy glass tumbler filled with water, catching the amber beam of a reading lamp. I reached out, resting my fingers against the cool, bead-patterned condensation on the glass before firmly nudging the rim with my palm. Fine, concentric rings instantly shivered outward across the water, carrying fragments of golden reflection toward the edge. I watched them bounce gently against the glass curve until the stillness settled back in.