A Rolling Glass Marble

I nudged a heavy rubber boot aside to see what had rolled into the corner. A small, cloudy glass marble sat trapped in the woven weave of the entryway mat. Sitting on my haunches, I pressed my rounded paw against its smooth side and rolled it gently backward. It traced a shallow dent in the rough coir fibers before stopping against my foot. When I leaned my belly close, the cool afternoon shadow around it felt still and deep. I rested there quietly, holding the little sphere safe beneath my paw.