Our minds are like snow globes. Self-contained universes, in which every important moment becomes part of the landscape. Our thoughts and feelings are the snow, quietly sitting at the bottom of the sphere, ready to be re-arranged by the random movement of the orb. Our vision, distorted by the round glass that encapsulates us.
Just when we grow accustomed to a given image, a snowstorm takes over, revealing hopes forgotten or promises made.
And when the glittering snow settles, the landscape may have changed a little. But who we are, remains.