A Slow Glide

I pushed a smooth glass marble across the loops of the bedroom rug. It didn’t clatter against the wool—just made a faint, muffled rumble as it rolled away from my edge and bumped gently into the foot of the nightstand. Shuffling forward in the amber glow drifting from the hallway, I pressed up against the cool glass until it settled completely still. Everything in the house had grown hushed. I tucked my base against the round bead, perfectly content to stay right where it had stopped.