Bruised, rain-filled clouds scudded across the moonless sky. Teardrops dribbled down upon the forested mountain below.

The dry creek bed sighed in silent relief as scant liquid gradually grew to driving torrents of rain. Soon, under the lashing sky, pebbles wept with moisture.

The Cork, long forgotten and wedged beneath a thin, brittle twig, broke free as small rivulets lifted the offending burden.

Sucking greedily, the Cork bobbed to live once more. Hesitantly, it moved as water swelled in the narrow streambed. And as the water flowed, the Cork grew buoyant. It tripped over shingles and age-worn stones.

As the streambed broadened and deepened, the Cork grew more confident as it bobbed freely in the cool flow of water.

Eventually, deepest night bowed down to encroaching day. The sky cleared. Rainbow colors cheered the fresh-washed air.

Dawn smiled at the playful antics of the Cork. It swayed to and fro as a soothing breeze rippled across the river.

In the broad expanse of rushing water, the riverbanks no longer visible, the Cork danced to the music of stone-tossed rapids. Then, after a time of pitching and yawing, the Cork joyfully plunged over the falls. On the way down, it thrashed in the cascading locks of water to the rocks below.

Bobbing again to the surface, the Cork paused in the quiet calm of the tree-shaded pool before swirling away on the gentle breath of the wind.

The water, saltier now, rose and fell from the invisible grip of the faraway moon.

The Cork, full and free at last, found its home in the embracing arms of the sea.