Author's Notes: For alien_writings and the prompt of "Bubbles."
I'm not saying we play at the dump, exactly—Ma would have my hide for that, with all the filth and germs. But we do poke around there now and then, wondering about the things people throw away.
I found a water-filled container yesterday, with buildings and white flakes inside. I brought it to Ma and asked what it was, and she just stared.
"A snow globe," she finally said.
"But what's in it? A city?"
She nodded. "Paris."
I don't understand why so many things from Before make Ma sad, but it seemed like this was one of them.
"Is Paris real?" I asked.
"Yes—at least, it used to be. Your father and I went there on our honeymoon." She blinked real fast for a bit, then said, "Now go throw that thing away."
I didn't want to—it was pretty and I'd never seen anything like it—but I did what Ma told me to, even if it felt like a mistake.
Ma was quiet the rest of the day, and it seemed like something was wrong but she wouldn't say what.
She seems better today, like she's forgotten whatever was bothering her.
I keep remembering that look on her face when she saw what I had.
I think just maybe that snow globe used to be hers.