The official changed; the witness of the final, infinitesimal movements of the dreamer chosen from afar.

He found immense satisfaction in the room that had been prepared specifically for his rest.

A screen opened, like a sleek, clean eyelid, dimensioned to showcase Lake Tazur, a breath-taking composition of plant specimens from different planetary systems.

He closed his eyes, cheated his extremities, and raised a glass mentally, letting three drops of water fall onto the white cotton mantle before his feet.

Three diamonds sprang from them, and he picked them up reverently, concentrating all his efforts on the task in order to keep his mind completely blank.

Something broke in him at the last moment – a doubt, an unlocked fear – and the last three pieces fell, resuming their original aqueous form.

He bent his head remorsefully to contemplate his loss. He would never manage it, he wept alone, and returned to his office, a few light-minutes away.

The mauve metal door closed behind him, leaving the place empty, lost in its predetermined aesthetic.

And three drops of salty water lay in that place until they dried, on the snowy white mantle, a gift confectioned by a long-vanished people.

The waters of the lake receded into the far distance and the skies dried up in that uninhabited room, waiting for its moment, yearning for the creator who would open the door once again, longing to find its hidden prince.

And an indeterminate period of time later the doors opened, and it was him.

He had returned for his tears; he had mislaid them.

The conifer forests blazed, their smoke invading the formerly pristine room in a vivid evocation. It was the smoke of Neutra, a carbon moon he had once visited.

And he felt a huge nostalgia remembering the death of his wife there. He wept again, before the smoke and ash completely inundated his mouth and nose and turned his eyes to coal.

He laughed from the emotion of recalling his yearning to reunite with her.

An indeterminate period of time passed and the room returned to its brooding perfection; the atomic clock synchronized with the birth of a distant star at the other end of the galaxy cluster.

In that new place, a reality within reality, both of them appeared in the virtual window, now real, gazing at each other, weeping to sow nascent stars in a world they never came to know.


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