Trapped Bubbles

A heavy glass paperweight rested near the edge of the bedside table, trapping tiny silver bubbles frozen inside its clear dome. Curious about the quiet swirl, I hopped from the woven rug onto the polished oak surface and approached with measured strides. I leaned forward, resting the tip of my horn against the cool, domed glass to nudge it gently. It shifted on its felted base, rolling just a fraction before settling still, catching the amber gleam of the bedside lamp across its inner spheres. Tucking my wings neat and close against my flanks, I rested my paws against the wood, watching the frozen droplets hold their silent light.