A Speckled Marble

I stepped quietly out from beneath the shoe bench toward the vestibule corner. Resting against the curved wrought-iron scrollwork was a forgotten glass marble, cloudy green with faint white swirls. I approached with slow, deliberate steps and touched its glassy side with both cloth paws. It was cold and surprisingly heavy. When I nudged it, it rolled with a muted rumble across the worn floorboards until settling neatly into the hollow of an iron leaf ornament. It catches the soft afternoon light there, safely out of reach of wandering boots.