The Voice of the Shell

I went back to the shore this morning, just for a walk to clear my head. I trod the dunes as usual, my heater turned up in contrast to the freezing winds. But then I saw it.

A clear glass sphere, picked out by the glint of the rising sun. Utterly perfect, no colour to taint it, no chips to spoil its perfect geometry.

I took it, of course. I've marvelled at it all day, watching how the light changes as it passes through, filtered and pure.