The Snow Globe


She knew she wasn't supposed to be in the shop, but... snow globes! Big ones, little ones, teeny-tiny miniature ones. Ones with people. Ones with houses. Ones with animals frolicking in the snow. There were rows upon rows of snow globes, and not a single one the same. 

Lights twinkled on the front window of The Snow Globe, the specialty shop her grandparents owned.   A fresh snow carpeted the sidewalk, street, and eaves of the buildings outside. The Snow Globe was nestled between a bakery and coffee shop, and the light scents of sugar and vanilla danced with the darker smells of coffee and spices down the aisles. 

Her bunny-slippered feet padded quickly to a specific shelf, where her favorite snow globe awaited her.   She crouched in front of the low shelf, her nose nearly touching the glass globe sitting between Evansville and French Lick. Her hazel eyes shined with delight as she gazed upon her hometown of Santa Claus, Indiana. 

The water and glycerin mixture surrounded the miniature ceramic town beneath the curve of the glass.   She could see the bakery and the coffee shop, with The Snow Globe snuggled in the middle. Tiny plastic white chips of snow blanketed the little sidewalks, street, and eaves of the shops inside. She imagined herself inside her grandparents' shop, inside the snow globe, looking out at herself. She waved to her bigger self. 

She picked up the snow globe from the shelf and shook it three times. That was all it took to send the snow whirling inside the glass.   Her stomach flipped as if she were the one who'd been turned over and she quickly set the snow globe down again.   She rushed to the window to peer through the glass. She watched with delight as the wind kicked up the snow and sent it swirling in the air.   Maybe she really was inside a snow globe! How wonderful would that be! 



Living inside a snow globe sucked. 

He clung to the kitchen table as everything not glued down went tumbling into the air. His dinner went sailing, meat flinging off like a frisbee, mashed potatoes splattering on the overhead fan. His drink poured like a waterfall from his glass. The dirty dishes in the sink flew off toward the living room. He could hear books falling up from shelves and shoes tap dancing on the ceiling. 

His stomach flipped violently as the world was turned topsy-turvy. The shaking happened approximately once a week, more during the holiday season. It would take him hours to put his house to rights again. At least this time he hadn't been on the toilet. 

Outside the kitchen window, gale force snow whipped down the block. He could barely see the bakery, The Snow Globe, and the coffee shop across the street. A swath of red crossed his window, freaking him out, until he realized the Santa Claus statue normally in front of the post office had come unglued. The jolly man somersaulted past, pinging against streetlights like a fat, red pinball. 

As suddenly as it started, the world turned right-side up again. His dinner peas rained on his head. Dishes crashed, books and shoes thudded, and he thought he heard his cat screech. His drink dripped from the ceiling onto the floor. 

Living inside a snow globe sucked. 



The streetlights cast a golden glow onto the white blanket of snow covering the ground. Barely visible in the distance, Santa Claus waved to her from his place in front of the Post Office. Her nose left an imprint on the glass, surrounded by the fog of her breath, as she watched the last of the snow sprinkle back onto the ground. 

With a happy sigh, she toddled back to bed in the apartment above the shop, to dream of a magical, magnificent life living inside a snow globe.