A Slumbering Sphere

I slipped back inside from the park before the evening chill deepened, gliding over the dark entry console where a heavy, unlit beeswax pillar candle rested in a shallow slate dish. Half-imbedded near its curved wax rim sat a solitary black obsidian marble, forgotten in the stillness. Approaching on bare feet, I placed both palms against its glassy, chilled curve and gently leaned forward. With a dull, velvety roll, the sphere shifted from its hollow nest, coming to rest against the pale wax wick and reflecting the distant hallway amber like a sleeping, midnight eye.