A Smooth Glass Marble

A clear glass marble was trapped in the groove between two paving flags beside the planter. I crouched down to look at its curved, gleaming surface reflecting the midday sky. Leaning forward, I wedged the blunt curve of my clay arm against its side. The glass was cool, perfectly slick, and far denser than the rough stone around it. With a deliberate nudge of my weight, it rolled free from the narrow dirt crevice with a hollow click, gliding an inch along the flat flagstone before stopping quietly against my foot.