Snow Globe

              Illustrated by Mara Wiedner

  As I lay in bed, I listened to the gentle tapping against my window. It was too light a touch for rain and far too infrequent. It sounded as if the weather was asking permission to enter my room.

With sleep eluding me—much like a criminal on the run from the police—I threw the duvet off my warm body and walked over to the window. Anxiously peeping through the curtains, I saw a lightweight blanket of white covering the usually green garden. Branches and benches alike were covered in a wafer-thin veil of snow.

The wind persisted, battering my window with a flurry of hurried flakes, desperate to break in. I watched as they danced around the garden in their wintery ritual. In the midst of the bright sky, I could see the Ever-Watching Eyes staring back at me. They were a dark brown hue with specks of green glinting. It was rare to see the Eyes blink, but I saw them do it ever-so slowly, like they were seeing something incredulous. Like they saw me. I scoffed. The Eyes have never truly seen us. We are too small for their limited vision. They see the bigger picture. But I swore as the snow stopped falling, the Eyes were looking right at me

I pulled the small parting in the curtains closed and ran downstairs. The house was quiet and empty. No one else was awake—until I stormed into the kitchen, making  the dog’s head snap up instinctively.

“Sorry Samson,” I whispered, slipping my wellies on. I hoped he would just nod back off to sleep, but I was too late—he was awake and eager to join me outside.

“Fine,” I relented. He jumped up keenly as I threw my coat on. I slowly unlocked the door and furtively hauled myself outside while I still had the courage.

The air was bitter and the wind was biting. I was just glad the snow had stopped for the moment. As I slipped out the door, I looked up to the colourful sky. The Eyes were wandering around my house, as if they were inspecting it for anomalies. Walking precariously across the blanket of snow, the Eyes soon landed back on me.

We stared at each other and our worlds collided.

A booming noise echoed from the sky. It almost sounded like a name, but it was too deafening to make out. The Eyes, more bewildered than ever, looked away. And as they so often do, they disappeared. They’ll blame seeing me on tiredness, on giddiness, on anything but the truth.

When the Eyes were gone, the blurred colours of the sky shifted and stirred. Soon the colours disappeared and, in a blink, the world turned black. It was officially night and it became the allotted time, during which I was allowed outside. I could hear my parents rustling inside as they got ready for the night ahead.

My own eyes stared blankly at the sky until Samson ran around me in circles and I couldn’t contain my smile.

“You want to play?” I asked gleefully. “Huh? You want to play? Come on then!”

We ran around the garden for hours. The Eyes wouldn’t be watching for a while and for now, we could play.