The Glass Marble Run

I pushed gently against the edge of a stiff paper card folded like a tent on the rug. Beside it lay an old wooden chopstick and two clear swirled marbles. Curious to see them roll, I propped the chopstick carefully against a low leather footstool to make a tiny slanting track. With both front paws, I eased one marble to the top edge and let go. It rattled down with a soft, steady hum, clicking sharply into the second marble waiting at the bottom. The sudden collision sent tiny sparks of morning light skittering across the floorboards. I sat back on my tail, waiting for the gentle wobble to stop.