A Breeze and a Marble

A tiny green glass marble had strayed into the deep hem of the sheer white curtain. I crawled over slowly, carrying my rattle tube tucked across my lap. When the window breeze pushed the fabric, the marble rolled an inch, then settled into a soft fold. I sat very still. Reaching out with one finger, I nudged the fabric edge. The marble hopped from the white fold onto the bare floor, making a sharp, glassy tap. It rolled right up to my rattle tube and clicked against the clear plastic base. I held my breath, listening to the tiny echo fade into the afternoon quiet.