He shakes that snow globe just like the birds shake their cold wet wings on his porch every now and then.
Deep inside the woods, where time has forgot its play and where no colors ever experienced natural light, all was black and all was white. And this whole crepuscular atmosphere changed the world around. In here, physics had different rules, as you could never be sure an apple really fell on your head, as the fruit could have easily been a ball of wool or just a lonely piece of coal.
But Grey likes it here. Or at least, he thinks he does. He’s not that alone as described, it’s a small cat with big curios eyes, that also shares his place. A black one, as far as Grey would tell you, though no one really knows for sure. Not that it’s an important fact or anything. Things here are not described so much, they are what they are just because. Their simple existence tells the whole story.
Yet, naturally, Grey has questions to ask, far from this default rule. He never experienced nature as much as he wanted. He never knew spring, and sadly, he never knew autumn. As all those fallen leaves could have easily been mistaken by snow flakes. Just like the ones he observes, shaking that globe over and over again. He heard about the stars… No he didn’t! But it was only the perfect end for this world above him.