A Spin on the Marble

The mother-of-pearl button nestled in my pocket was begging for a stage. Down from the velvet cushion I hopped, creeping across the floorboards to the cold, glossy expanse of the white marble hearthstone. To simply flick it with a finger? Never! I set the button flat against the polished stone, stepped onto its edge with the heel of my boot, and executed a sharp, theatrical pirouette. Zzzzt! The iridescent disc shot into a wild, shimmering spin, humming like a mechanical cicada before wobbling to rest directly inside the brass fender's open scrollwork. A magnificent debut for a forgotten parlor relic.