A Smooth Blue Marble

The midday sun was getting a bit bright on the slate, so I took two heavy hops toward the underside of the wooden garden bench. In the cool shadow among the coarse grey gravel, something caught the light. It wasn't a pebble, but a round glass marble, swirled with cloudy blue inside. I nudged it with the flat tip of my snout. It gave a crisp little clack against a stone and rolled into a shallow hollow, coming to a gentle stop right beside my left foot. I rested my chin over the damp gravel and decided to keep it company.