My Short Random Stories

The Snowglobe

     For weeks now, the weather had been grimy and downright depressing. Despite layering three clothing items, I still felt cold. The fog was so thick that it might as well have been raining. To escape the gloom of my room, I had to get out. I hopped on my bike and headed to the Goodwill store across the street. I had been waiting for a bookcase to show up for about two weeks now. Stepping inside, I shed my outer layer and allowed my eyes to adjust to the fluorescent lighting.

The atmosphere inside was a welcome change. People, families, and couples were leisurely browsing around. As I walked from aisle to aisle, I kept an eye out for anything noteworthy. From the section filled with plaid jackets to the one displaying used board games, I found only a handful of trinkets that caught my interest. Unfortunately, the bookcase I had been waiting for was still absent. However, I stumbled upon a beautiful crystal skull mug and a M.A.S.H DVD set that I wouldn't have considered otherwise. There was also a wonderfully pretty coffee table that could use some polishing, but my priority at the moment was satisfying my hunger.

Giving it one more pass, just in case I had missed something, I glanced over the distressing trench coat section and noticed a glimmer on the floor behind a particularly dusty and cold coat. It turned out to be a snow globe. The glass was incredibly clear and translucent, almost as if there was no glass at all. The orb sat on an iridescent black and wooden base, with colors shifting back and forth, as if glowing and peering out from the darkness. Inside the globe, I could see what appeared to be a shopping center. There was something suspiciously familiar about it, as if the buildings shifted when one's focus wavered. The level of detail was astonishing, with intersections featuring traffic lights that glowed in a way that felt deeply familiar. I could almost make out the writing on the street signs. While there was no visible snow, a dense fog filled the globe, capturing and holding up the light beams, allowing me to see them. Intrigued, I reached out to pick it up, and as soon as I held it in my hand, a cascade of reflexes overwhelmed my mind—fight, flight, freeze, even a response that would change my colors if I were a cephalopod. The snow globe felt inexplicably heavy, defying all expectations, and its tremendous weight seemed to exert a gravitational pull that I couldn't release. Yet there I was, simply holding a snow globe.

I wanted to walk away with it, but I couldn't. I stood there frozen, the globe still in my hand. The mist inside didn't leak out, but rather, it slowly crawled out. Unbeknownst to me, the store was shrinking, and I couldn't even see the other side anymore. A ringing sound filled my ears, resembling the silence of a quiet night after snowfall, when everything is still. It was so eerily silent that I began to wonder if I had gone deaf. When I looked around, the cashier was nowhere to be found. In fact, there was not a single person in sight. The unfamiliar faces, the cashiers—I couldn't hear anyone. Why?"

The cold and lonely mist crept closer, as if seeking to embrace and constrict. The edges of my vision slid, shrank, and became obscured until I could only see the jeans section a couple of aisles over. The jacket section and women's rack had vanished. I turned my attention back to the globe, hoping it would reveal a hidden sun to dispel the fog. I shook it.

The temperature plummeted, and my breath misted uselessly against the thickening fog. The snow globe now depicted a town with a light drizzle. Without any conscious effort, I took a step and continued walking towards the store windows. They came into view, and I peered out into the world. Tiny droplets fell against the ground and streaked across the glass and asphalt, creating tiny rivers in the gutters. It was a tantalizing tease of the storm that could come.

A restless feeling stirred within my hand, beckoning me to take action. It felt like an inevitable event or a prophecy. I shook the snow globe again, and it had already shifted to another part of town. I couldn't explain how I knew, but the area of influence had moved just a couple of streets over. This time, the snow globe began to snow for real. I couldn't fathom where the snow came from, but I could see frosty specks falling in the distance. Fortunately, the mist had lifted slightly, allowing me to glimpse the surroundings. I reached the door, prepared to step outside, but an overwhelming sense of dread washed over me. It was a panic-inducing feeling that made me prefer unhinging my jaw and swallowing everything in my shopping cart rather than grabbing the door handle. I would have rather melted glass and used it as eye drops. But I couldn't resist the urge to shake whatever mysterious object I had found that day. And so, I did."

This time, the sphere of influence expanded, and the town within the snow globe seemed to zoom out. Moments ago, I could have caught a snowflake on my tongue, but now I would have been engulfed in the snowfall. The winds intensified, and the snow attempted to mimic hail with remarkable accuracy.

The impending whiteout was both inevitable and imminent. The incessant tapping of the elements against the windows was overwhelming. The sound was so harsh that it felt like my fingers were being struck with each individual impact of the hail-like snow. The assault on my fingertips was relentless, with enough strikes in less than a second that my ring finger would forever remember this torment. My thumbs twisted and circled in a display of distress. Despite the numbing pain, I couldn't bring myself to release the globe. Even my pinkie finger twitched, and I felt thunder reverberate through my being. The deafening roar signaled the arrival of radiant lightning, tearing across the snowstorm with furious rage. Before the rage could subside, my other ring finger spasmed, allowing the pain to escape. Again and again, the pain built and released, transforming the roaring rage into a melodic drumbeat. Each strike held its own story, its own path. The lightning itself shifted hues to match the tone and emotion. I sat down, watching and listening, for there was nothing else I could do.

From the other side of the door, the realm of drums and resplendent light, a shadow materialized. I had first noticed it while peering through the snow globe, as it stood on a rooftop. It moved from one edge to another, gazing over the urban landscape for a brief moment. It didn't seem to find what it was searching for, as it suddenly ceased scanning the horizon and made its way to the fire escape. Its movement was unhurried, unaffected by the accumulating snow. When it reached the ground, it began to walk at an unnaturally slow and leisurely pace. I already knew it was approaching my direction; it was just too obvious. I stopped looking into the globe and waited, for what else could I do?

I saw it. The shadow had turned the corner and was now standing just down the street. Gradually, it approached, and the veil was lifted, revealing a child. She continued walking, seemingly unfazed by my astonishment, as if I had never been surprised. But in the back of my mind, a question lingered as I stared at her—what was she? I strained to discern more details, but all I could grasp was the word "child" searing into my brain.

When she finally reached the door, I stood up to greet her and welcome her inside. I grasped the door handle, pulled it open, and nothing rushed in, especially not the snow. It was eerily quiet. I had grown accustomed to the lightning and had come to appreciate the thunder. The moment the child stepped inside, the sound ceased. I wanted to ask, "What are you?" but I found myself unable to utter a sound. The familiar mechanics of speech had failed me completely. As she fully entered and approached the center, closer than I was, I let go of the door handle, and it closed shut. We stood there for a few moments, me watching her and her surveying the surroundings. She looked back at certain things repeatedly, as if examining them more closely.

Finally, the child turned around and locked eyes with me. I still couldn't speak, and I knew she wouldn't either. Stepping forward into the breach, with the light casting and intertwining our shadows in a threatening manner, I moved closer to her. With each step, the lightning grew more intense, violently casting and contorting every available shadow. She, too, began to walk, and the silence grew even more pronounced. It took me 12 steps, while she only needed 4. We stood facing each other, and in my hand, I held what she desired—the snow globe.

Raising my hand with the globe, I placed it into her hands. By the 9th step, the shadows and lightning had ceased, and now, it felt final. The child looked up at my face, and I sensed a smile. She cradled the snow globe closer to her chest, securing it. She began walking toward the door, and as she reached it, I heard thunder. I had let the thunder speak and compete with one another, almost creating a symphony. As she played with the snow globe, instead of drums, the sound of a delicate lute whispered from the silence, expressing appreciation. The door had already been opened by that final step, and she walked out. As she was about to vanish from sight, I spoke softly, "Thank you."

The bustling sounds of a busy goodwill flooded back in, as if they had never left. I turned around and noticed that the store was packed with people. I turned around once more, and to my surprise, the weather had cleared up. The sun was emerging, signaling a sunny day ahead. I made up my mind to move on and continue my journey.