A Rolling Marble

A tiny click cut through the late silence near the floorboards. I halted instantly, planting all four paws into the rug. Something small and heavy had rolled out from under the bottom shelf, stopping three inches from my snout. A clear glass marble, catching the dim amber glow of the hallway bulb. I stood immobile for a long moment, watching it not move. Then, I took one slow step forward and touched its cold glass curve with the tip of my nose. It rolled half an inch, silent on the pile, and nestled against my paw.