The white light was a presence rather than an absence. It was the silence before the first note, the blank page before the narrative. Alexander held on to Tatiana, but he was unable to sense her, the pavement below, or his own anxiety. All that was present was the sun and a deep, reverberating silence that seemed to endure forever.The light then started to condense.It didn't back down or dim. It condensed into a single, concentrated point of brilliance, drawing itself inward from this non-space's limitless edges. It was similar to witnessing a star's birth in reverse.Shapes and sensations came back to Alexander as it compressed. Tatiana's heartbeat was steady and powerful against his chest, and he could feel her solidity in his arms. Beneath them, he sensed a soft, supple surface that resembled thick grass or moss rather than concrete. The warehouse's antiseptic, charged air gave way to a soft, predawn freshness that smelled of damp earth and dew.The light had formed.It was about

The butterfly's wings were a lovely cream and lemon watercolor. As it lay against Tatiana's flesh, they pulsed softly and regularly. In their new, peaceful environment, Mira's giggle was the finest sound Alexander had ever heard, a bell of purity ringing.Tatiana remained motionless, enthralled. The butterfly felt like a live adornment on the occasion of their engagement, a mark of peace. It was just regular magic. The kind that would exist in a world devoid of time loops and supervillains.The butterfly took off, its flight irregular and magnificent, after a long, breathless time. After circling Mira's outstretched hand, it flitted up between Tatiana and Alexander, seemingly painting a heart in the air around them, before taking off for the river and vanishing into the dusk.Mira's fist closed on nothing and then opened again as she cooed. She was not anxious or in a rush. Either the butterfly or another would return. Time was available.Alexander first glanced at Tatiana's face, whi

Like a dare or a pledge, the blank envelope rested on the kitchen table. Tucked between a gardening catalog and a utility bill, it had come with the morning mail. Not even a postmark. No address for return. It was just Tatiana's name in an unfamiliar, flowing font.A coffee mug was halfway to Alexander's lips when he stopped, watching her as she picked it up. His reflexes had lost their sharp edges after a year of calm, but a spirit of alertness persisted. The sound of the paper rustling made Mira, now a strong one-year-old, laugh as she banged a wooden spoon on her high chair tray."Will you open it up?" Alexander asked in a deliberately neutral tone.In her hands, Tatiana flipped the envelope. The paper was hefty, fine linen. It didn't throb with evil force. Neither blood nor roses were in the air. It simply was. A part of her, the queen of ashes who continued to reside in a quiet corner of her spirit, was ready for one last cruel joke. A petal that is black. A smear of blood from t

After midnight, the morning was a cathedral of ordinary light. When Tatiana awoke, she felt lighter than she had ever been, as though her bones were composed of air and sunlight. The phantom's visit seemed like a dream, and in the ruthless clarity of dawn, the power of all dreams diminished.They settled into their routine, a joyful but dull liturgy. Pancakes were prepared by Alexander. Mira gave the dog more food than she did. They talked about their plans for the weekend. A film? A trek? The choices were pleasantly uninteresting.Tatiana's phone buzzed on the kitchen counter in the middle of the morning. The text came from an unidentified number. Something like that would have made her adrenaline rise a year ago. She now thought it might be a pharmaceutical notification or an incorrect number.She grabbed it up and looked at the screen.There was no text in the message. Only one high-resolution picture.A sonogram was what it was.The blurry, black-and-white picture displayed a fetu

In her hand, the black seed was a universe. Tatiana sensed its potential's gravitational pull. It spoke in a whisper. And what if? Imagine creating an empire of light. Imagine cultivating a garden with exclusively white roses. What if you could ensure that a youngster would never experience fear again? You know. The love is with you. You might make the ideal gardeners.It was the allure of power. Even though Benjamin's motivations were darker, it was the same seduction that had won him over. the ambition to write a narrative, not merely experience it. to eliminate any possibility of suffering, loss, or taking the incorrect path.Alexander saw the epic struggle unfold in her eyes as he observed her face. He remained silent. She made this decision. Their decision. But the seed was in her.Her emerald eyes were closed in milk-drunk sleep as she gazed at the pure baby, Mira, in her arms. The two-year-old Mira at home, with her colors and her chuckles, sprang to mind. She remembered the ch