Nov 11

Bubble Me

Slipping, squeaking, like a small mouse I run, no gravity to pull me down. The sides give under my hands and feet, the air perfectly balanced inside, so unlike me. The shining glare of the sun on its glassy rubberlike walls burns my eyes. I shout to them below me, they only stare, eyes wide, lips moving silently, like we're all stuck in an old fashioned movie without sound. I groan as my foot slips out from under me again and I fall against the squishy wetness of my bubble. I try to stand, slimed once again, but eventually give up and sit cross legged staring at them getting smaller underneath me. I cry out when suddenly I look up and out of nowhere a humongous tack spears my floating orb. POP! I wake up.