A Gentle Marble Roll

I slipped out toward the balcony rail where a row of potted succulents stood in the afternoon breeze. Resting in the dry potting soil was a smooth, round terracotta garden marble. I pressed both of my hands against its gritty curved surface and gave a slow push. It rolled along the narrow edge of the wooden planter box, wobbling gently until it tapped against a forgotten wooden clothespin. The marble settled neatly into the clothespin's metal spring notch. I sat down on the weathered rim beside them, letting my brown feet swing quietly in the open air.