A Rolled Marble

Waking up on the sofa cushion, I slid down the knitted blanket to stretch my legs across the morning floorboards. Under the rim of the low side table, I spotted a clear glass marble half-tucked beneath a fallen paper coaster. I crouched down and gave it a measured flick with my index finger. Instead of rolling straight, it traced a smooth curve across the wood grain, bouncing lightly against a chair leg with a clean glass ping before settling against a braided rug fringe. The tiny spiral inside the glass caught the morning light like frozen water.