They came when my eyes were closed. I would often run out to the field behind our summer house and find a cool spot of grass to lie on and face the sky. Today, clouds blocked the sun, but that didn't stop the children from next door. I heard their giggles and screams as I looked for a spot in the sky to stare at and forget the world. I closed my eyes for just a moment, listening to the flower stems shuffle from a soft breeze. Even if it rained, I wouldn't care. At that moment, I wanted to be alone, left with the faint sound of people in the distance, and the silent harmony of the flowers.
I opened my eyes, and that's when I saw them. Bubbles! When was the last time I blew bubbles? As I wondered this, more came, and I stayed where I was, watching a few pop on delicate flowers or land softly on a blade of grass. It amazed me how quiet they were. No one could hear them.
When I was little, I imagined a whole world of memories was preserved in that one sphere, drifting wherever the wind blew it, and coming to an end at whatever destiny had in store.
A friend once told me that you could carry laughter in a bubble. Even then, I thought it was ridiculous. But watching the colorful spheres play in the air, dodging flowers, bug and grass, I couldn't help but smile and giggle. Maybe laughter was carried in a bubble, and spread to the one who witnessed the bubble's end.
"Stacy!" my sister called.
I knew that she passed the swing, where I had promised to be an hour ago. Another thing I learned when I was little was I could disappear in the flowers, and decide to reappear when I chose. My sister hated this power, and I heard her frantic footsteps coming toward me.
I sighed, smiled once more at the buubles, stared a little longer to preserve the moment, then sat up to wave. The moment was over, just like a bubble, you're drifting along, then suddenly POP! you're back in reality.