A Sno-Globe Considered as an extrusion of seventh-dimensional space

A response to the Sunday Photo flash fiction challenge for December 17th, 2017– 200 words inspired by this image–

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Copyright 2017 Douglas Daniel

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I have to get out.

They trapped me here, in this weak little form.  It was revenge, as well imprisonment.  I can see and hear, but do nothing.

We lost the battle in the seventh dimension.  The T’soka were too many.  All we could do was shut down the portal, so that their infiltration took years, instead of bursting in on the Earth in a day.  We still could not stop them.

They forced me through a chrono-gravimetric inversion loop and left me imprisoned.  A knick-knack.  We never suspected they had a sense of humor.  Like Nazis writing jokes on the skin of death-camp victims.

Seventy years I’ve sat on Mrs. Lois Haskills’ mantel.  I’ve watched three generations of the Haskills be born and grow up, and I don’t want them to die, screaming, as the T’soka tear their souls apart.

If there’s hope, it’s Sid.  Nine years old, with ADHD.  You don’t listen to your grandmother when she tells you to leave me alone– you still fiddle with me.

If I could just get out, I might yet be able to do something.  My strength has returned.

Come on, Sid.  Find your inner klutz.  Drop me.

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