Down the Timber Rail

A stray glass marble was resting against the corner post of the park pavilion, catching the morning glare. Curious to see how smoothly it might travel, I nudged it into the shallow, weathered groove running along the cedar handrail. With a light tap from my fingertip, the marble began to roll, picking up speed down the sloped timber. A quiet clatter hummed through the wood as sunlight spun in bright arcs through its clear core. Trotting alongside, I planted the base of my golden staff across the rail just in time, bringing the swift traveler to a gentle, clicking halt right at the end.