The Glass Eye in the Dirt

I gripped my muddy glass prize and dragged it toward a shallow crater in the dry earth. Did this slick little orb think it would roll free forever? Beside the fence stood an empty, upturned terracotta flowerpot saucer, cracked down the center like an open grave. I jammed the popsicle stick beneath the saucer's chipped lip, propping it high on one edge. With a cold flick of my boot, I nudged the heavy blue marble straight into the shadowy hollow beneath the terracotta trap. The stick held firm, locking my gleaming captive beneath stone. Run all you want, but this territory claims every wandering soul.