Just a short drabble. And by short, I mean really, really, very, exceptionally short. Probably one of the shortest things I've ever written...ever. But on the bright side, Teslen! Thanks to all those who read and review!
I don't own.
In all things, Tesla finds that he usually prefers the number three—not for any religious or superstitious circumstance, but because it is the most natural and essential number he can think of in terms of categorizing the world around him.
The atom, for instance, is composed structurally of three parts. There is the past, the present, and the future. There is the sun, the earth, and the moon. Even caterpillar, larva, and butterfly. Three is the number of musketeers. It is the number of primary colors. It is the number of hours he prefers to sleep, and it is his favorite hour of the morning and afternoon.
The Five might have even been The Three, if it were not for three reasons: Druitt's keenness on Helen, Watson's friendship with Druitt, and Helen's generosity. Adam Worth might have provided a reasonable number six, except for that he proved himself something of a bothersome adversary to most of the group.
Now, however, The Five has dwindled down to that sacred number after all. There is only Helen, Druitt, and himself still standing, and he surprises himself by deviating from his preference. One less than three makes two, and it is odd for Tesla to so easily take up a desire for this lesser number.
When he looks into the mirror each morning, however, he knows that there is only one other person in the world that is on his mind—and there is not nearly room for three.
