A Rolling Glass Marble

I pushed past the bedroom door frame on my hands and knees, following a warm patch of early sunlight stretching across the living room carpet. Right by the curved wooden foot of the sofa, a pale green glass marble sat trapped in the woven fringe. I paused, resting on my shins, and reached out with both hands to nudge it free. It gave a quiet, hollow click against the floorboard and rolled a tiny circle before stopping against my bare toes. I blinked at its smooth, cool curve, then patted the sunny rug beside it with a gentle murmur.