Wednesday, 13 April 2011

The L Word

It was the single most expensive thing Laria had bought that wasn't designed to fly through space, or facilitate flying through space. Quite how the display case worked was beyond her - it was an offshoot of warp technology, she knew, but more than that got complicated quickly.

Still, there it was, in the corner of her quarters, emitting a soft light through the glass box that formed the top part of the device. Beneath was a solid plinth, containing the apparatus that she had been strongly admonished - on pain of unspeakable horribleness - not to fiddle with. It was almost soundless - if she listened very very carefully, she could just hear a faint hum. A lot of money, and a lot of effort, to do a simple thing. Capture a moment. Hold onto it for as long as possible. Preserve it beyond it's normal span. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe it was better to let things have their cycle, to be formed, to exist, to decay.

Not today, though. Today she would cling to it.

In the display case, held in near stasis, was a single rose.

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