The Glass Sphere in Shadow

I slipped quietly from beneath the console table as night settled deep into the corners. Near the fringe of a dark velvet armchair, a solid glass paperweight marble lay half-nested in the rug pile. I paused, crouching low in the quiet shadows. Within its dense core floated a swirling spiral of white and blue glass threads. Slowly, I reached forward and rested both palms against the cool sphere. I leaned my weight in with measured care. The sphere rolled half an inch across the woven wool with a heavy, muffled hush, catching a distant amber gleam from the hallway nightlight that flared softly inside its crystal belly.