Bright eyes stared into the erratic flashing light. Water droplets misted the outside of the large jar in front of the young girl. Her chin rested on the dark wood desk, surrounded by school books and stray pencils. The jar held an intricate little black ship, rocking in never-ending waves. Lightning shouted thunder and the ship trembled. The dark room mirrored the dim eyes, eyes that reflected the silent, turbulent ship.
A spear of dull sunlight penetrated the closed blinds. The little girl slid her chin off the hard desk and her hands closed around the jar. The child wore a crisp, neutral school dress. She stood, holding the stormy jar securely against her.
Children laughed and chased each other around before the start of school, each carrying their own jar. One older girl, standing in the midst of friends, held a colorful jar containing a chameleon. It slowly shifted from one color to the next, searching for the right shade. A boy with a confident smile haphazardly carried his glass in one hand. Within his glass was a lion, proudly surveying its savanna. Once the bell rang, the students filed into the building.
The young girl passed like a shade through the halls, unseen by the others. Her eyes never left the hard ground, blocking out the chaos around her.
Two running figures barreled into the unsuspecting girl. She desperately clutched the slippery jar as the two students crashed into her. They scrambled away; she collided with the floor. Fear stabbed into her when her glass rolled from her hands and out of her reach. Waves began to slosh out of the jar. Before she could reclaim it, a steady hand grabbed it.
She lifted her eyes from the hand to the face looking at her. A boy looked directly at her. He held out her stormy jar. She took it without a word and glanced down. Beside the kneeling boy was his own jar he had set down to retrieve hers. A bright light from the glass stung the girl’s eyes and she looked away. Both got to their feet. The young girl began to walk back into the crowd. She looked back to where she had fallen. The boy, now holding his glass, gazed after her. She looked again into the light of his jar. Through the pulsing brightness, she saw a lighthouse.
Back alone in her bedroom, the girl began her homework. Her jar stood off to the corner of the desk. Looking up from studying, the eyes of the child looked into the glass. The waves no longer rocked against the dark ship so violently. They still churned, but the ship had made its way to the mouth of a bay. Its waters were tropical blue. The sun peaked a shy beam or two from behind the clouds as seabirds flew about. Her eyes now displayed budding liveliness instead of despair.
