A Slow Bead of Water

I nudged myself forward on the smooth wooden tabletop until I was resting right beside a tall, clear glass filled with ice water. The outside was misty with tiny droplets. I sat very still and watched as one droplet grew too heavy, merging with another and sliding down the curve in a quiet, winding trail. It left a clear path through the mist, stopping just before reaching the wood. I pressed my round side against the cool glass for a moment, enjoying the gentle chill before settling into a soft folded napkin nearby.