Manley sat beside her on the porcelain bench, an umbrella in his hand. She kissed his cheek, but, as usual, he remained silent and rigid, his gaze vacant. Pearl felt like a prisoner in an unchanging world.
She struggled onto her feet and lurched forward. Toward freedom.
Her world began to wobble on its podium; then it rolled off, moving along the shelf. Her body tumbled with the swarms of churning flakes.
The glass orb plummeted down, landing with a sharp crack, and the liquid enveloping her began to seep from the globe.
Pearl frowned, then took a deep breath.