A Small Lens in the Railing

I climbed from the terracotta planter up to the lower bar of the balcony railing. Tucked right into the metal joint, I found a small glass marble wedged tight in the groove. It felt completely cool against my palm. I braced my knees and nudged it steadily with both hands until it rolled free, stopping against a tiny rust spot. When I peered through its curved edge, the distant apartment buildings across the dark yard flipped upside down, glowing with tiny, inverted squares of yellow light. It was like holding a pocket-sized window.