thewatchmaker: (Sweet Sylar)
Through the music box shop window, I watched as the ballerinas danced and carousel horses ran in circles while tinny music played. A few of them were broken. I could feel where their gears didn’t quite fit together properly, but they weren’t what had my attention.

It was the dozens of snow globes that glowed among the music boxes. It wasn’t an expensive fancy one calling to me; it was a cheap ball of glass filled with green trees and a miniature of Mount Hood.

I left Oregon in the crusty snow that covered her grave. “I miss you, mom.”

100 Drabbles of Summer Master List
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