I had this big bag of marbles when I was a kid. An old, little zipper bag full of those small perfect balls of glass that I would only take out when I was having one of those days when there was literally nothing else to do.
But for some reason there was one that always stuck out and was very special to me.
There were dozens of other marbles in that bag of differing colours and sizes, but it was always this one that I picked out from all the others just to keep it with me. Keep it separate from the others.
I didn’t know why it was so special to me, I just felt a sort of connection. But then again, I was a kid. Your imagination could run wild without ever realizing it.
I’d sit there in the middle of the room totally engulfed in my own world, surrounded by these little spheres.
Yet I always clutched that special one in my hand.
My little blue marble.