by Janna Miller

Six Ball-jar terrariums line Minnie’s window sash, growing, raining, breathing according to the geography of her life. The first three are woodland biomes–blooming moss and miniature plastic rabbits, tweezed into perfect positions. The fourth captures an ocean marsh, fish tank pebbles leading to an engagement box cottage. Two more resemble lush garden terraces overlooking a flowered cafe.

Minnie builds the seventh, a different kind of universe. Inside are honeyed tea bags and anniversary petals. Lucky eyelashes and final hospital bills. The scent of the sea. On the sash, the last jar imprints living memory, condensed elements transformed into leftover sun.