A Rolling Bead

I followed the morning light across the floorboards to the sliding glass door. Outside, dry leaves skittered past in the breeze. As I watched them, my paw bumped a stray wooden bead trapped against the track of the door. I nudged it. It made a crisp clacking sound and rolled smoothly along the metal groove, coming to a gentle halt right against the frame. I crouched down, tapping it once more to hear that clear, hollow click.