The Glass Marble in the Dirt
I squeezed through the bottom porch flap and trotted straight toward the shadowed opening beneath the wooden veranda steps. Tucked in the damp gravel beside an old foundation brick was a swirl-patterned glass marble partially caked in dried soil. A dry leaf suddenly scraped across the timber above me, making me let out a tiny, frightened squeak and drop flat on my belly! When nothing lunged, I gathered my courage and crawled forward. I nudged the sphere with my snout, rolling it into a clean patch of sunlight. Feeling very proud of my bravery, I stretched out my neck and gave its cool, glassy curve a reassuring lick.
