In Captivity

I heard once that glass was a liquid. A very slow liquid, creeping in millimeters over centuries, but a liquid. Maybe this is true. Maybe it isn’t.

I watch the stained glass waves and I wonder how many thousands of years it might take them to crash to shore. There is a dolphin, swimming in that deep blue sea, all alone, sunlight streaming through its body.

It is going home, I think. Home to its school, to other glass dolphins swimming in an ocean vast and slow, made of all the windows in the world.

Word Count: 95

This is for Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for running the challenge and Jean L. Hays for providing the photo prompt!

Read the other responses to the prompt here!

26 thoughts on “In Captivity

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  1. I went up to the top of the cathedral in Salisbury, England, where the guide pointed out the original glass from 700 years before. You could see the waves of the centuries, and the glass was thicker at the bottom corner than at the top. The guide encouraged us to touch it, saying we’d probably not have another opportunity to say we’d touched 700-year-old window šŸ™‚

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