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