Day 30 Prompt – The Ice Globe

For more years than anyone alive could remember, the scene had never once changed. Or so it always seemed. Inside a small bevelled dome, rising high towards the stars was a town encased in glass, forever in winter. Little coloured buildings, the butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker all covered in a white cotton snowfall that never would thaw.

Dazzling flecks of light shimmied and sparkled off reflective white ice.  Where tiny painted windows, and coloured glass panes, illuminated the houses for curious wide eyes. Children in mittens and scarves tightly wrapped, ran through the carpet of powdered white grass. A boy with a snowball in his tiny clasped hand looks to another and plans his attack. Three little girls, in loose woollen hats, roll a large ball across to the flat. Two clumps of coal and a carrot lay close, waiting to awaken the snowman, we suppose.

A woman in grey, with a thick woven shawl stands by a window and studies its wares. Inside the window a little toy train track follows the curve of the glass fronted bay. A shiny black carriage is stalled at the station. The face of the woman is held in refrain, hope yet despair is pained in her eyes.  Christmas was coming and no money to spare; she could never buy the present she knew that he craved.

An old lady sits in the chair by her bed. Liver spotted hands, now twisted with age, hold the globe snuggly across her weak chest.  Her ruby red slippers on over puffed feet, tap to a melody that plays in her head. It was her time to go, she knew it was so. She had lived a life of plenty but now the curtain must fall. She closed her eyes slowly and breathed her last breath with the glass covered globe still held to her chest.

Her family held a yard sale not many years later and a small girl of eight with moonlight coloured curls picked up the globe and held it real close. She kept the globe by her bed every night and whispered her stories to the people inside. She loved all the people, the children and the shops. But her favourite part of all was the smiling young lady with the ruby red slippers. She danced in the snow and smiled just for her.

About helenmidgley

Helen Midgley likes to think of herself as a cross between Dawn French and Kate Moss. She has been in the witness protection programme for a number of years and once lived in Brighton as a bearded mechanic called Dave! Her current incarnation is as a part-time Journalism & Media tutor at a small FE College in Yorkshire. She has survived cancer, dandruff and athlete’s foot and has a penchant for black humour and red wine.

8 comments on “Day 30 Prompt – The Ice Globe

  1. What a lovely story, Helen. You made me feel like I was there, watching the scene in the globe. Beautiful!

  2. Such a sweet and fun story. I really like how the ending is rather paranormal, but it isn’t creepy.

  3. I really like the theme here, very well done. Life goes on… sad but happy, well done! 🙂

  4. OOOOoooo! I enjoyed this so much – and the ruby red shoe ending seemed quite a happy one.

Penny for your thoughts (we won't resell them)

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


Journalism so good... it's scary.


Decades of her words.

J and I Publishing

Creative Color Book Publications

Tony Flye


Everything Indie

Supporting Indie Authors with Tips, Reviews, and Services


Community manager for ReviewCreep.com - Exposure Platform for Wordpress Review Bloggers

Barbarian Writer

A Story For The Æons


Five true stories, every five weeks.

You Knew What I Meant

Errors and Intentions


Alexander Chee

Bending Genre

Essays on Creative Nonfiction

harm·less drudg·ery

defining the words that define us

Antariksh Yatra

Journeys in Space, Time and the Imagination

The Task at Hand

A Writer's On-Going Search for Just the Right Words

Mashed Radish

everyday etymology


Is this gentleman bothering you?

%d bloggers like this: