The Glass Bubble's Whisper

I scrambled up the heavy corduroy arm of the chair to reach the dark wooden credenza. Resting in a quiet nook was a small glass prism paperweight filled with thousands of microscopic trapped bubbles. Deep in the dim room, a tiny yellow charging light from a tablet across the surface cast a faint ember straight through the glass sphere. Keeping my wings tucked close, I stepped forward and gently tapped the heavy glass dome with one plush paw. It slid an inch with a low, smooth scrape, projecting a constellation of tiny golden specks across the polished grain before settling completely still.