Orb

She gazed longingly at the blue, glass-like, orb that stood alone in one of the several display shelves of the Huntington department store. Her blue-green eyes, almost matching the globe's own hue, scanned the entire surface of the precious stone as if her eyes were electron beams of a modern microscope, scanning for details and flaws.

But her vision did not stop, as most, on the objects high polished surface. She could pierce its span, twisting and kneading her mind to enter the inner sanctum of the mysterious gem. She gasped in horror and surprise of its remarkable innards. This was the one which she had searched for three lifetimes.

Possession of the artifact must be now.

From under her flowing Arabic robes a dark, sinewy arm and hand issued forth and pressed, open palmed, against the glass window. A low barely noticeable mumbling and rumbling came from the back of her throat. Her eyes closed.

The double pane of security glass began to hum in a pitch so high that dogs and cats ran from the downtown area in ear bleeding pain.

After a few seconds the window, in its entirety, along with the other windows in a block radius, simultaneously shattered beneath her outstretched palm. Unhurriedly she picked the orb from its bronze holder, stuffed the two foot globe beneath her spacious robes and walked contently down the block, unconcerned by the glass shards and the unbothered by the store alarms in her beautiful ears.