The Slow Roll

I returned through the dim hallway and settled beside the lowest tier of the bookcase. A thick cloth-bound volume lay open flat on the floorboards, its heavy rag pages bowing into a deep center trough. From a shallow dish nearby, I lifted a dense dark marble. I paused, watching the shadow stretch across the paper. Then, releasing my grip, I let the sphere settle at the crest of the fold. It traveled down the gentle incline at a measured, unhurried pace, producing a low, muffled hum against the paper. At the bottom edge, my gloved fingers waited, receiving the weight in absolute stillness.