Clear Canteen

Moving out from the cabinet shadow, my boot tapped something glassy and rigid resting sideways on the edge of the woven rug. It was a clear, heavy glass marble with a twisting ribbon of amber trapped dead center. I dropped to one knee to test its weight. Solid, zero surface fractures, perfectly balanced. With the rug fibers acting as natural friction stops, I wedged my shoulder against its curve and rolled it into a slight indentation between two braided loops. It stayed put, catching the midday glare and projecting a sharp amber spotlight against the floor. A dependable focal point.