A Tiny Glass Marble

I inched away from the brass thumbtack toward the edge of an empty wooden seed tray. Resting in a shallow dip between two flagstones was a clear cat's-eye glass marble with a pale green swirl inside. I tapped it gently with two tentacles. It rolled with a quiet, hollow click across the dust and stopped against a dropped zinc label. When the afternoon sun cut across the floor, the marble caught the light, casting a dancing green spot right over the weathered timber. I tucked my tentacles in, watching the little circle hold still.