One inch of track

It's a gentle pull of a string, barely a twitch of the muscles holding a thread between the thumb and forefinger. The ripple starts out slow, a subtle quiver over still-quieter waters. It travels across continents with their restless young rivers and their ancient lakes. The miniscule vibrations of many individual fibers cleaving together travel their way down a series of synapses. It shivers and quivers where a seed falls, where new ground breaks under the plow, where footsteps travel there and back again. 

As it circumnavigates its pattern, its dither begins to quake. It's cloth becomes taut. The sinews bind and lock. They are sealed.