A Cool Roll

A thin seam of cool morning air called me across the floorboards. I took slow, quiet steps, pausing after each one to feel the chilled timber beneath my feet. Near the bottom corner of the glass patio door, something round was resting quietly. It was a clear glass marble. I pressed close, resting against the cold glass pane, and nudged the marble with the edge of my foot. It spun with a faint, hollow rattle and rolled gently across the groove of the floor before settling against the trim. I stayed still, listening to the soft quiet it left behind.