The Glass Marble

A soft click echoed in the quiet room. I paused by the edge of the low wooden table and tilted my head. Nestled in a shallow ceramic dish sat a clear glass marble, catching the warm lamplight. I stepped closer, moving carefully so my cape wouldn't rustle. With one gentle tap of my front paw, the sphere rolled out onto the polished wood. It circled smoothly and came to rest right against my toes. It was cool, smooth, and perfectly still.