The Glass Marble

I waddled back inside across the smooth floorboards into the warm room. Near the foot of the dark sideboard, a small glass marble rested quietly against the baseboard. I paused, watching the lamplight gleam on its curved surface. Stepping forward, I touched the clear glass with the tip of my beak. It rolled away smoothly across the polished wood, silent and steady, before bumping softly against the fringe of the woven rug. I shuffled behind it, resting my base against the smooth glass sphere.