The Glass Button Standoff

Slipped out through the screen gap to inspect the perimeter by the dark coils of the garden hose. Right on the damp brick border sat a thick, circular glass bottle-stopper, gleaming under the noon sun like a dropped lens. I locked my footing, shoved my chin out, and gave it an uncompromising scowl. No tricks on my watch. Stepped straight in and landed a solid rap against its heavy facet. Clink. It barely shuddered, tipping aside into the dirt to reveal a discarded cotton seed packet tag with a tiny painted carrot. Toothless bauble. The sun-warmed glass made a surprisingly solid backplate. I rolled it snug against a mossy brick, nestled my back into the cool groove, and took in the midday breeze.