One particularly lonesome night, Primo sees the sea of stars above ripple, like the surface of a lake. From one ripple, a lone shooting star is born, hurtling to the ground just at the horizon.
At the point of impact is iridescent crystal in a fine sphere, big enough to fit in both hands. As if encased in this crystalline amber lies a familiar pocket watch, in the exact level of wear and tear that he remembers. But as soon as he ponders how he will free the object from the sphere it... pops. Like a bubble.
In the distance, a clock tower chimes the hour, and the breeze carries with it the scent of burning candle wax. Both sound and smell are gone just as soon as they'd come.
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One particularly lonesome night, Primo sees the sea of stars above ripple, like the surface of a lake. From one ripple, a lone shooting star is born, hurtling to the ground just at the horizon.
At the point of impact is iridescent crystal in a fine sphere, big enough to fit in both hands. As if encased in this crystalline amber lies a familiar pocket watch, in the exact level of wear and tear that he remembers. But as soon as he ponders how he will free the object from the sphere it... pops. Like a bubble.
In the distance, a clock tower chimes the hour, and the breeze carries with it the scent of burning candle wax. Both sound and smell are gone just as soon as they'd come.