A Smooth Intruder

A tiny green marble had rolled onto the painted wooden sill overnight. It sat motionless against the window frame. I did not rush toward it. I waited five minutes to confirm it was inanimate. Then I wobbled forward at my own deliberate pace. I nudged it with the lower curve of my shell. It gave way easily, rolling three inches along the narrow groove of the frame before stopping against a brass latch. Solid glass. Perfectly spherical. I aligned myself beside it, blocking it from rolling any further toward the drop below.