A Decisive Sip

A tiny green anole lizard was darting across the scorching flagstones, throat dry and panting near the metal hose reel. It was making desperate strikes at the brass nozzle, but the shut-off valve was bone-dry. Walking past a comrade in need is never in my code. I climbed onto the coiled black rubber hose, dug my boots into the ribbed ridges, and clamped both hands around the brass valve lever. With a disciplined surge of leverage, I forced the lever three millimeters back. A clean, glistening droplet welled at the brass lip. The lizard lunged, drank thirstily, and vanished safely into the ferns. Mission executed.