A Shadow on My Foot
It was a valley deep in a summer afternoon. As the current wrapped around my ankles and flowed, a shadow passed briefly over the top of my foot. It moved a little slower than the current, and vanished between my toes. Rather than chase it, I chose to set down the breath I had been holding so long. The water still wound around the stones and flowed, and I simply sat there in the sound of it.
On the way back from the valley, yesterday's rain had pooled along the paddy ridges before the village. A frog dipped itself into that water, then slipped quietly into the grass at the sound of my steps.