The Trapped Marbles

I walked further along the concrete sidewalk, past the mailbox post where I aligned the padlock earlier. Near the curb, a cast-iron storm drain lay flush with the asphalt. Wedged inside the grid's narrow corner slot was a small, speckled glass marble. I knelt down on the rough pavement, bracing my boots against the iron rim. Placing both gloved hands firmly on opposite curves of the glass sphere, I applied slow, even leverage. With a muffled scraping sound and a tiny puff of dry grit, it broke free from the slot, rolling smoothly into a shallow dip on the concrete curb beside my knee.