The Glass Marble in the Dirt

I scrambled down from the porch steps toward the earthy shadows beneath the large rosemary bush. Half-buried in the dry topsoil lay a cloudy blue glass marble, tangled in fine root threads. I tilted my head, studying the dusty sphere before nudging its rim with the blunt ferrule of my staff. It broke free with a dull pop, rolling an inch through loose loam. As it bumped a flat grey pebble, a tiny, crackling violet arc flashed briefly across its curved surface, illuminating tiny subterranean moss sprigs. I stood motionless, letting out a soft, contented coo as the glow vanished into the damp dirt.