The Glass Marble

I stepped quietly through the open garden gate into the damp grass. Staying inside was getting stale. Underneath a weathered stone bench, something caught the morning sun. I froze. A clear glass marble rested in a ring of green moss. I paused three breaths to see if it would roll away. Silent. I reached out a cautious paw and tapped its smooth flank. It clicked against a pebble and spun half a turn, trapping a tiny upside-down sky inside.