Concentric Rings

Returning indoors as night settled, I mounted the curved leg of the rosewood side table to escape the floor's quiet chill. Resting beside an extinguished taper candle lay a polished slice of banded agate, its concentric rings of smoky quartz and slate rippling outward like frozen water. At its edge rested a single stray steel ball bearing. Bracing my boots against the wood grain, I nudged the heavy sphere onto the stone's polished surface. It rolled in a slow, whispering spiral, caught by the shallow dip, before coming to a dead, soundless halt at the agate's translucent core. Harmony resumed its vigil in the dark.