The Rolling Marble

A faint click on the floor caught my attention. I stopped. Down below, a green glass marble rolled across the rug, then stalled beside a table leg. The ground felt too crowded. I scaled the woven fabric of the sofa cushion, claw by claw, testing each seam before shifting weight. Now I am perched on the wooden armrest. The entire room is visible from up here. The marble sits still beneath the table shadow. I will wait.