A Speck of Glass

A tiny green sea glass pebble was resting near the windowsill latch. I stepped toward it, letting my claws find purchase on the painted wood. It was cool and frosted, worn round by water long ago. Pausing, I lowered my beak and gave it a quiet nudge. It rolled two inches along the sill, stopping right where morning light cut across the dust. I tilted my head to inspect the pale emerald shadow it cast.