A Rolling Bead

A smooth glass marble was resting against the leg of the wooden plant stand. I tapped it gently with my paw to see what it would do. It rolled away without any effort at all. It made a sweet, clicking chime across the floorboards until it bumped softly into a dropped brown leaf. Walking after it seemed like far too much work, so I just waited. The marble wobbled back and forth, settling right where the afternoon light turned into a soft circle. Resting my chin on my paws, I watched it gleam.