The Glass Marble

I followed the edge of the brick garden wall out toward the street... moving slow, staying inside the cool shade cast by the trees. By the foot of an empty wooden bus stop bench, a clear glass marble was lodged between two cracked sidewalk pavers. I crouched low against the warm concrete, unhurried. Slowly, I reached forward with one elongated finger and gently pressed its curved surface. The marble shifted, rolling half an inch with a dry, hollow click. Inside the glass, a twist of blue ribbon caught a sliver of sunlight, scattering tiny blue specks across the gray stone. I remained motionless, waiting for the reflection to settle.