Trapped in Glass

A heavy dome of clear glass was resting on a dark green felt mat across the low table. Inside its crystal curve, a complete dandelion seedhead remained frozen in place... each fragile white filament standing perfectly upright, untouched by any breeze. I paused for a quiet moment, letting my eyes adjust to the soft reflections. Stepping closer, I placed both paws against the smooth, cool glass. It was surprisingly solid. With a gentle push, I nudged the sphere an inch across the felt. A bright arc of warm afternoon light bent through the dome, scattering a silent ring across the polished wood.