The aroma of plums conjured memories of childhood afternoons spent in the garden with her grandmother

Jello coated every inch of her hair, her skirt, and the insides of her shoes

She could feel it inside her ears and between her toes

With one hand gripping the edge of the bowl for safety, she rested a moment and pondered her peculiar situation

Was she… inside a refrigerator? It couldn’t be possible, could it?

Looming above her was an enormous carton of milk

It was the same height as the tree outside her bedroom window

Next to the giant milk stood a jar of pickles

It was the same height as Zayla …if she stood on her tippy toes

She could see her reflection in the glass jar, damp sugar coated hair sticking to her face

As she peered over the edge of the bowl, she spotted a carton of eggs below

The egg nearest to her had a tiny constellation of speckles across one side

Zayla imagined wrapping her arms around it, certain that it would be too large for them to reach all the way around

She could cook seventeen breakfasts with just one of those eggs

Every breath she exhaled created a foggy cloud in front of her

She cast a glance upwards

Curiously, the light shining above her was coming from a chandelier

Who on earth would have a chandelier inside their fridge?

How absurd. Some people really were eccentric