A Spin in the Moss

Squeezing through the narrow gap beneath the side gate, I padded out onto the flagstone garden path to see what lay past the fence. The stones felt solid and faintly warm under my paws. Right where two flags met, a clear glass marble was wedged against a thick seam of moss. I dropped low and gave it a steady shove with the tip of my nose. It broke free with a tiny click, rolled down the mortar groove, and spun like a glittering bead before tumbling into a soft hollow. I crept forward and settled my chest against the stone, watching the morning light wobble through the clear glass.