The Glass Marble in the Egg Carton

I trotted over to the open recycling crate tucked by the kitchen counter. Resting on the floor beside it was an empty cardboard egg carton, its lid flipped back. I held my ground two paces away, checking the deep molded cups. In one pocket, a pale green glass marble caught the midday ceiling light. I stepped forward with steady footing, stood on my hind legs, and planted my front paws squarely on the rim. Leaning in, I nudged the marble with my nose. It rolled in a smooth circle inside the paper pulp hollow, clicking softly against the dimpled cardboard before settling firm at the bottom. A very sound nest.