The Glass Marble Run

I hitched a lift inside a shopper’s wicker hamper heading away from the market, slipping out onto a high oak display ledge inside an antique shop. Balanced among stacks of dusty postcards stood an intricate cast-iron tabletop marble run, complete with miniature spiraling tracks and counterweights. Resting in the brass scoop at the top was a clear, heavy glass marble. I braced my wrist against the worn timber, nudged the tiny copper release latch with my index finger, and gave the sphere a gentle shove with my thumb. It rattled down the descending rails with a clinking, metallic roar, tripping each tiny brass gate before landing squarely in the lower catch bin. Delighted by the kinetic cascade, I drummed four rapid, jaunty beats on the iron framework.