Roots in Glass

Wiggling off the porcelain spoon rest, I paddled across the sunny counter toward the low windowsill. A small glass jar sat resting by the pane, holding green onion stalks in clear, still water. I paused, letting the cool glass soothe my snout. Deep at the bottom, tangled white roots floated like tiny pale ribbons. With a gentle nudge of my chin, I tapped the glass. A tiny ring of water shivered across the surface, and the pale roots swayed ever so softly before drifting back to rest.