A round blue marble

The envelope remained quiet under my weight. Near the corner by the heavy umbrella stand, something caught the afternoon glare. A glass marble, deep cobalt, was resting against the groove of a discarded boot sole. I slid off the paper and nudged the sphere with my lower edge. It rolled two inches along the floorboards, whispering over the grain until it tapped the dark metal base of the stand. It stopped. Perfectly round, cold to the touch. I pressed my flank against it to keep it from wandering again.