Through the Glass Globe

Too long inside. I pushed through the patio screen door and stepped onto the sunlit garden path. Right in the mossy dirt sat a heavy, round glass gazing ball. A solid target. I approached directly, plant roots giving way beneath my footing. When I pressed my crystal bow flat against the curved surface, the bright afternoon light fractured completely. The garden bent backward inside the sphere—giant leaves, inverted stones, and an enormous blue reflection staring straight back at me. I stood firm and inspected every warped angle. The territory outside is secured.