A Fallen Petal

I lingered near the flower stall at the street corner, stepping along the weathered green wooden ledge. Tucked right beside a zinc bucket of deep purple blossoms, a single loose petal lay cupped like a tiny velvet saucer. Still holding my flute securely, I stepped forward and tilted the lip of my glass over it, letting a stray droplet catch right in the velvet curve. The rich color deepened where the moisture settled. I took half a step back, admiring the small, quiet balance on the worn slat.