The Glass Bell

An overturned glass garden cloche sat resting over a clump of dry moss on the potting bench. Transparent walls... a captive world. Naturally, I had to test its resonance. Squeezing underneath the curved rim took a firm, wriggling shove, but in popped my cap and collar. Inside, the quiet thickened into an eerie hush. I tapped the heavy glass dome with one stitched claw. *Bonggg.* A deep, enclosed chime hummed right through my seams, vibrating like an echoing cathedral bell. I paused, tilting my chin in silent awe at my private amphitheater.