Sphere

There was no other light in the room save the lamp. The blue shades reflecting and distorting the milky white light. She looked at the globe of glass. A white sphere with a hue of blue infused into it. At its center was a black sphere.
A smooth round sphere of black surrounded by transparent glass. There were packets of air trapped in glass. All transparent except the black sphere. She called it the black hole. It never reflected but absorbed all.
She never knew why she liked looking at the black sphere under the table lamp. Every it was a ritual…a compulsion. Dark room….blue light….black sphere.
A sense of calm pervading her senses as she stared into that dark void. She often thought of all the things that could lie hidden in the dark depths of the sphere. A diamond…a milky white pearl…or just a pocket of air.
She never realized that the smooth black sphere trapped in glass was her. Absorbing but never reflecting. The world around her nothing but a glass sphere…with packets of joy…trapped! Reflecting…having no color of its own.
Only she was real. The black sphere.
She didn’t realize that every human being was a dark sphere, with varying shades of white. Some jet black…some a dark grey. Absorbing more and more, but reflecting less. Trapped in a color less world.
She wondered what would happen if the glass were to crack.
Would the pockets of air escape?
Will the black sphere exist or would it drift away…a black haze slowly drifting with the flowing breeze…..fading away…….