Lake Lewisia #795

No one else seemed to notice the soap bubbles, even when they spent all of third period bopping against the closed classroom door in iridescent frustration, but she had been seeing them for two weeks now. In the hallway before lunch, down at the library while she tried to work on her term paper, in the halo of the bathroom light while she brushed her teeth before bed: the bubble, or bubbles, kept finding her, following her, until some obstacle cut them off and the next one had to drift its way to wherever she was. It was annoyance, more than curiosity, that finally convinced her to take a wrong turn on the walk home and follow where the bubble seemed determined to lead her--as good a reason as any for the one who had been sending them to her.

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LL#795