The Rolling Marble

I slipped through the gate and trotted down the quiet alley to explore the sunlit stones. Beside an old stone doorstep, a clear glass marble with a green swirl was trapped in a dry mortar groove. I halted, tilted my head, and gave a measured meow. Crouching low, I extended my right paw and hooked the glass with a single claw. It popped free, clicking crisply as it rolled across the cobblestones before stopping against a mossy brick. Meow! I padded over, touched its cool, glassy curve with my pad, and sat tall to watch the sunlight trapped inside.