A glass of iced water

I gaze at a clean tall glass which is on the round-shaped table. It is alone and lonely. Just for a while, pure ice comes into and clashes against it inside. It clanks when the spoon comes to join with them, dancing happily in the party. Outside, steam of freezing iced-cold water rose and melted away as small round mass of drops falling down the glass. It is refresh and cool as same as in the cold season.