Never fret. The Wisest Stone is later today; this is *yesterday's* flitterfic.
The view from up here is terrifying in its beauty. I can see the curvature of the Earth, a soft rounding of the horizon. Cities speckle the nightside with pinpricks of light, like holes punched in the planet to let the sun's fire show through.
Outside, it is silent. Still. The seas here are unmoving dust, showing the marks of impacts millenia old. The seas of Earth don't hold imprints. They wash away the memory of you in the space of a breath.
That is why I will boil them away.
They will remember me then.
That's what's important.
Tools of the Trade: The Perpetua Pencil
16 hours ago