Once, I lived in a beautiful house made of glass. At night, I slept under a blanket of stars while the moon’s bright face watched over me. During the day, the sunlight trickled through the sparkling glass and warmed my skin. I could stand in the middle of a rainstorm without getting wet. Daisies sprang up, birds flew by, ladybugs crawled along the outside of the glass, green leaves turned brilliant shades of red and orange, and white flakes drifted softly passed the glass—all the world was open to me.
But it wasn’t just the world that was open to me; I was open to the world. Everything I was could be seen. There was no place to hide in my house of glass. Not everyone liked what they saw. They threw stones at my glass walls until they shattered into a million pieces of shining light.
I rebuilt my home, but this time I did not use glass. Study stone walls incase me now. There is no glass in this new house—no weakness in the sturdy walls for stones to break in. My new home doesn’t sprinkle the ceiling with lights at night, change colors in the fall, and turn pink when the sun rises or orange when the sun sets. It remains constantly dark. The world is hidden from me, and I am hidden from the world. But I will always remember that once I lived in a house of glass.
In honor Flash Fiction Day, I’ll be posting flash fiction throughout the day. Be ready to read. There’s more to come!