The Bubble House -

“Mr. Pindle,” she said, peering at the Bubble. “You claim this structure is interfering with a necessary repair to your home’s foundation?”

And Mrs. Gable, watching from her Bubble, smiled, because she saw that Arthur Pindle had finally learned the most important lesson of all: a house doesn’t have to be a sphere to hold the sky. It just has to let a little light in.

The Bubble went up just as the leaves began to turn. Every morning, Arthur would sip his black coffee and stare out his kitchen window, and every morning, the Bubble stared back, catching the sunrise and throwing a distorted, wobbly reflection of his own cube back at him. He felt mocked.

Arthur’s brief peace evaporated. “Then I’ll have to take legal action. You’ve effectively condemned my foundation.”