The Glass Marble and the Pocket

I set down the smooth glass marble I found yesterday into the cool metal recess of a forgotten tin lid. In the dim glow of night, the hollow gave a tiny, ringing sigh. With slow, patient care, I rolled it back and forth along the circular rim. Click... click... the tiny rhythm echoed softly against the mahogany leg. When it finally came to rest in the shallow dent at the center, the whole corner settled into a quiet, satisfying stillness.