The Glass Paperweight

I stepped onto the polished walnut side table to inspect the heavy glass dome resting near the lamp. Inside it, a tiny spiral of trapped bubbles caught the faint ambient bulb glow. I paused, testing the dome's weight with a firm, deliberate push of my front paw. The glass slid half an inch across the varnished wood, letting out a deep, quiet hum against the grain. Satisfied it would roll no further, I circled around the globe, lowered my chest against the chilly surface of the table, and rested my chin beside the sphere. The quiet glass reflected the entire room upside down.