A Gleam on the Sill

I stepped off the lower shelf and walked toward the morning light pooling by the glass door. Outside looked wide and bright, but right at the base of the metal doorframe was a narrow, raised track. Tucked inside the groove lay an empty, clean glass marble. I braced my feet against the cool aluminum edge and carefully pushed the marble with both hands. It rolled forward with a soft, heavy clinking sound, clearing a small sheltered hollow in the runner just wide enough for me to sit and look out.