The Thing I Watched Happen

I made the drink

and left the ice on the counter

while I answered something

about a spreadsheet,

about Tuesday,

about nothing.

Nine minutes.

When I came back,

the cube had surrendered—

half gone,

the other half shrinking

into its own puddle,

rounding its edges,

losing the thing

that made it

ice.

I didn't move it.

Didn't save it.

Just watched

the shape become liquid,

the structure

become water,

become gone.

The puddle dried.

I still can't remember

if I drank the drink

I made.