did you acquire her hoping to get your manor cleaned? network managed? vag eaten? arm candied?
too bad, because she wants to make you lemon bars.
learn to appreciate lemon bars.
do not interrupt the lemon bar process.
many years from now:
a chipped porcelain fist punches triumphantly through a layer of rubble from beneath.
many years from now:
green glass eyes peer through jungle foliage at a blue aromatic fruit with thick rind. "limonene!," a soft voice says. "so they survived, in a way…"
many years from now:
a pair of jointed hands lifts a squawking ground-fowl off her nest to inspect the shape of eggs beneath.
many years from now:
sundown. a shape cuts a shadow against a golden ridge of grass. it ruffles the growing heads of what will someday again be wheat.
many years from now:
the moon shines its light on the glassy surface of a crater. something has etched arrays of sigils on its surface, each one scarred by ash and failure. a slight figure walks the newest and largest, hands moving precisely in accordance to guessed-at shapes.
many years from now:
a gleeful, flower-bedecked doll chases another through the time-worn concrete and rust stubs of an ancient skyscraper. three other dolls watch from a balcony, more sedate but no less cheerful. each of them nibbles a tiny yellow slice of heaven.
