Enveloped by the Ring

She stared at the glistening ornament for as long as her eyes could bear its monopolistic appeal; now she must feel the seductively smooth curves. Fetching it out from the red velvet box, she pivoted it in between her thumb and forefinger, sliding it little on each finger.

After rolling the ring 360 degrees in all planes, she slipped it on her ring finger – where it 'belonged'. “This doesn’t feel right,” whispered she. Turn by turn, she blessed her sleek fingers and even the not-so-fancy thumbs with the ring’s sharp allure. Every time she would make her hands do the Waltz with each other, but her fingers made the ring look dull; where alone it stood in grandeur.

She flung and caught the ring, repeating it until this became a game. With each catch, the throw was higher. The ring shone with all its might in the air and when the cold silver hit her warm palm, it radiated a traditional comfort. Strange how wearing it didn’t provide inner content like she had expected.

Picking up momentum, the game shifted to one hand. It was formidable to throw the ring this high; ecstasy or playfulness, whatever it was that overcame her, she threw the ring as high as she could. With a slight jingle, it rebounded way before her sight’s route.

What was that – an invisible ceiling she hadn’t noticed before, or just an illusion? Puzzled and curious, she threw the ring again and this time heard a tiny crack. “A ceiling!” cried her.

She threw the ring as far as she could, another crack! She persisted until her fingers became sweaty and shone. The crack widened and a whiff of wind touched her. The crack became a hole and the ceiling collapsed into tiny shreds.

The ring lay amongst the shards and she jumped outside, breaking 

the Glass Ceiling.