The Unbreakable Glass
She pushed different buttons. She stayed up nights when she used to go to sleep. She woke up mornings to a cup of coffee and more work to do. She kept working, kept reading, trying to solve the real life puzzle of the glass tube, and yet she never came any closer to figuring it out.
One night in the lab, she had fallen asleep at the desk next to the machine. The machine was futuristic looking with many buttons and lights. It was connected to a large glass tube about 12 feet tall and 10 feet in width. A man sat in the glass tube like some kind of animal experiment. He watched her sleep. He wanted to talk to her, but he let her sleep. She moved. She breathed quick. She was having a nightmare. He knocked on the glass loudly to wake her, to take her away from what was scaring her. She opened her large round eyes slowly and blinked. She looked up at him, and he stood up. She walked over to him, brushing a few particles of dust off of her lab coat. He smiled. They stood in front of a each other. He thought, one day I will escape the glass. She thought, one day I will get you out.
“I’ll…get back to work,” she said, rubbing the tired from her eyes.
“Can you just stay here tonight?”
“If I stay here, I can’t work.”
“How are we going to get you out of here…If I don’t figure out how?”
He smiled, but his eyes didn’t. She placed her hand against the glass, spreading her five fingers wide. Without thinking, he lifted his hands to hers. He pressed his hand on the glass, hoping she would at least be able to feel the warmth of his palm. She lifted her hand away and then pressed her cheek against the glass softly—against his hand softly. He swallowed hard and kept his hand steady all while wondering what her cheek really felt like. It was probably the opposite of what the cold, hard glass felt like. She was probably so warm. So soft.
She took her head away. Slowly, she took off her white lab coat and let it fall to the floor. She wore nothing underneath. He saw her breasts, her shoulders, her waist, her belly button, her hips, her thighs, her feet. He pressed his face close, and his breath fogged up the glass. He laughed and wiped the fog away in small circular motions with his hand. She laughed and blushed. His face became serious. He pulled his shirt over his shoulders. He unbuckled his pants. He let them fall. He kicked them off of his ankles. He stood tall behind the glass as naked as she was.
Her eyes grew large. She pressed both hands against the glass. She looked at every part of him, slowly, curiously, innocently.
Hours later, they were both laying on the ground with only the curved glass wall separating their bodies. He had insisted that she spread a blanket on the floor for her to be warm and comfortable, but she refused to do so since he could not have a blanket with him behind the glass. So they laid there completely naked. She laid on her stomach, cupping her head in her hands. He laid on his side, resting his head on one hand. He had forgotten about the nakedness, and so had she. They didn’t even feel the cold anymore.
“I wonder what you smell like,” she whispered.
“I wonder what you feel like,” he said. And then, “I wonder what it’s like…outside of this glass tube.”
“I think it’s the same as it is in there,” she said, “It’s like being without you.”