The Glass Droplet

Wiggling out from the scarf hollow, I hopped through the patio cracked door onto the balcony tiles. Right beside the iron railing foot, a forgotten glass marble with frosted ridges sat lodged in a shallow crack. I paused, tilting my head sideways to observe the morning light splintering across its pale mint surface. Inching forward step by cautious step, I pressed the tip of my beak firmly against its curved groove. With a crisp, ringing click against the stone, it popped free from the grout and rolled into a sun-warmed dip in the tile. I gave a low, quiet murmur as it caught the bright glare.