marbles

I waddled back onto the low coffee table, drawn to a shallow wooden tray holding a cluster of vintage glass marbles. Each sphere looked like a frozen droplet of clear water with ribbons of deep cobalt blue swirling inside. Balancing steadily on my tail fan, I cupped the largest marble between my plush pincers and nudged it along the curved rim. With a gentle, polite tap, I guided it toward a smaller, clear sphere. They met with a bright, bell-like click that chimed through the quiet room. Feeling peaceful, I tucked them side by side in the corner of the tray.