The Marble on the Sill

I found three thick picture books stacked beside the low window. Stepping onto the sturdy linen cover of the bottom one took a quiet breath of balance. One, two, three careful steps, and I reached the painted wooden sill. Morning light lay wide and still across the smooth surface. Right in the sill's shallow groove sat a clear glass marble, holding a speck of warm light inside. I knelt down and tapped it softly with two fingers. It rolled just an inch, making a tiny wooden click before coming to a rest. I stayed there on my knees, watching the little beam settle right over my toes.