The lights of the tree twinkled in the darkness of the living room. Max stood before it, entranced by the random patterns of color that appeared and disappeared. Blues and reds and greens coalesced and floated in the air before her.
Behind her, Chloe sat on the couch, a steamy mug of something in her hand. "Hella good Christmas," she said after taking a sip.
Pushing Chloe's arm aside, Max slipped onto her lap and put her arms around her neck. "Any Christmas with you is hella good," she whispered before kissing her.
Chloe playfully growled as she put her mug down. "What would your parents think if we desecrated their couch?"
Max lightly slapped a hand that was getting a little too familiar. "I'm pretty sure my mom thinks we've already desecrated the house by being here." She nuzzled Chloe's neck, biting it lightly.
"Oh! I see how it is!" Chloe slipped her fingers up Max's sides, tickling her. She easily found Max's sensitive spots eliciting a laugh. Hurriedly, Max put her hand over her mouth to stifle the laugh. Chloe used that distraction to flip Max around.
She found herself underneath Chloe on the couch. The blue eyes above her glowed and consumed her. Hands went from playful to gentle and tender. Max closed her eyes as a sigh of contentment slipped from her.
Something shifted, a perspective or feeling or something completely new. The questing hands slipped up to her face to caress her cheeks. The weight on her felt lighter, easier to bear.
"I'm sorry," words as soft and tender as the finger that wiped the tears from her cheeks.
"Don't…don't be." Her voice was as choked and broken as her soul. The words tumbled from her.
"How can I not be when I know…when I am the cause of your pain."
A whimper of a suppressed sob slipped between them. "I…I chose the pain, not you."
Lips kissed her forehead, warm and tender. "You took my pain…our pain onto yourself. If I could, I would trade my life for you to have one moment of happiness, one pure moment where you didn't have to worry about the consequences."
"You are my happiness."
"A happiness you never get to experience. A happiness shrouded by pain and loneliness. I see it growing in you, consuming you."
Another stifled sob leaked into the air. "It's…it's not."
"You can't lie to me, you know that? I always know. Please don't hurt us by doing it."
"I'm sorry."
Lips brushed together, a shared breath. "I worry about you…about what's happening here." A light pressure over her heart warmed her. "It's getting worse."
"I…"
"Let yourself feel. Let yourself hope. Let yourself be alive."
"I…"
The blues coalesced into a bright glow surrounding her, blinding her. She realized too late it was coming from her whole body. Looking down she saw the whorls and angles lining her. In their midst something swirled, pulsing and breathing. Alive.
Gradually the glow faded until only the flickering lights on the tree lit the room. "It's a good setup," Chloe said from next to her. "Your parents really went all out on it."
Stepping in front of her, Chloe peered into her eyes. "Are you ok? This is the second night I've found you out of bed in the middle of the night."
Blank eyes, which were all Max had right now, stared back at Chloe. She nodded without feeling it. Chloe's eyes narrowed and her lips flattened into a line. She recalled the words spoken earlier: You can't lie to me. I always know.
Ducking her head to not see Chloe's face, Max took her hand. "Let's go back to bed," she said in her dead voice. Chloe resisted, pulling her back. Fingers traced her jaw from chin to ear.
"Don't hide things from me, Max. It fucking hurts."
Her honest words made Max flinch. With eyes still downcast she said, "It's the same thing. I'm afraid of losing you. Again."
Stooping so she could peer into her eyes, Chloe softly said, "We don't know that's going to happen."
Her words caused Max's hands to clench. "Stop trying to deny it!" Her words came out harsher than she wanted. "I…I'm sorry," she made herself say. "I know you're trying to help, I just…I can't go through that again. Last time it almost killed me." This time it is.
"What are you trying to tell me?"
"I…I don't know. I don't!"
Chloe looked at her for a long time. Finally, her hands lightly grasped her shoulders. Upstairs they heard sounds as someone got out of bed. "Fuck," Chloe said softly. "Let's get you back to bed. I doubt you want to discuss this with your mom or dad around."
She let Chloe lead her upstairs. Her parents' door opened as they slipped into her room. They snuggled together under the covers, but Max felt sleep come over her before they could talk.
Morning dawned, dragging both of them from bed. After a shower and donning clean clothes, they headed downstairs. A healthy breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and bacon awaited them. Max couldn't remember ever having a breakfast like this at home. Usually it was cold cereal and fruit. Maybe some scrambled eggs occasionally.
Vanessa was the one cooking, which mystified Max even more. No explanation was given and Max didn't press it. She decided to enjoy what she was given. After breakfast and cleanup, all got into Ryan's car. There were several places he wanted to go, hopefully light on Christmas crowds.
None of them were shopping areas, so traffic and the number of people was light. Some were known landmarks, like the Fremont Troll, and some were more obscure places. By mid-afternoon, Ryan hustled them back into the car and took them to Lincoln Park.
"I think I'm not the only one that knows you like parks," Chloe said as they got out. Hand in hand, they walked along a path toward the Sound.
The views were beautiful, making Max regret leaving her camera at home. She made ample use of her cellphone camera, but knew it wasn't the same. When they reached an open area giving a great view of the Sound and islands opposite them, Max stopped to study the scene.
She had no memory of ever coming here with her parents, in any life. Very few people were in the park today. It was easy to lose oneself in the hum of the natural world around them. Leaning against a tree, she closed her eyes to immerse herself in the experience.
Someone rested against the tree next to her. She guessed it was Chloe. "We used to play at the beach and among the trees around town every summer," she whispered. "Being here…kind of reminds me of those times."
Fingers slipped between hers, gentle and warm. "Did it help you, talking to your parents," Chloe asked.
Sighing heavily, Max said, "No. It made no difference, at least to me." Her eyes opened and she turned her head to look at Chloe. "I don't know what I expected though. Telling you…that was a relief. Sharing it with them?"
The fingers of her other hand picked at the bark underneath her. Its fractured and crazed surface provided much to occupy them. "There's nothing."
Chloe nodded at her words, eyes fixed on the horizon. "Weeks ago I told you I wanted to fight for you. To fight for your happiness. I feel the same now as I did then.
"Whatever is happening with you, inside you…I want to know. Let me help you carry it. Let me help you have hope."
She nodded at Chloe's words. Ever the optimist, but the words fell flat against her own inner turmoil. Her eyes returned to the Sound, captivated by the waves and sunlight sparkling on its expanse.
How long she watched the rolling surf she didn't know. The sun was angling toward the horizon as words came to her. "Something broke in me after losing…my wife. I'm not just scared about…about loving you…there's something…pushing against it. Like a hollowness that doesn't want filled.
"I'm cracking and breaking apart inside. Everything I am and have and want…it's…it's turning into nothing." Ripping her eyes from the scene, she tried to focus on Chloe. "I'm sorry, I'm not making any sense."
"No, Max, I think you are. You went through something traumatic and your mind is trying to make sense of it. You've kept it pent up inside you for a long time and it's eroding your confidence and hope and other things." Chloe hand caressed her cheek.
"That's why I keep telling you that I want to fight for your happiness. You need someone to believe in you, to help restore what you've lost."
Max turned aside from that. It was too late, much too late for hope. Pulling on Chloe's hand, she led them back to the path. They passed her parents, who were enjoying the view from a shaded bench. Seeing them pass by, they rose and followed.
Her hand slipped from Chloe's, to tuck itself into her pocket. Head down, hoodie raised, she focused her eyes on the path. They walked several minutes in silence like this, passing trees and great views that she ignored. They were nearing the parking lot, and she wanted to leave. Not just leave the park, but leave Seattle and her parents and everything.
She stepped from the path into chaos. Smoke filled her nose and stung her eyes. The light went from overcast day, to dim and hazy. Screams of pain and sirens and sounds of destruction pushed at her.
"No, no, no, no!" The words ripped from her throat as Max turned, realizing where she was. There was no sign of Chloe or her parents or even Seattle. Bodies, broken and twisted and burned were strewn around.
It wasn't a vision; it was reality. The heat of the fire throbbed against her skin and the smoke stung her eyes. Her ears rang from the shrill sounds of death.
"I can't be here again! I can't!" The haze cleared for a moment and she saw it: the burning tower of their apartment building. A loud hammering pounded her hearing, her heart spurred into motion as terror gripped her.
The fiery missile sailed overhead and slammed into the building, causing a jet of flame to shoot into the air. She fell to her knees as everything came at her at once: the despair and sadness and grief and an overwhelming sense of guilt. They beat at her, at her mind and heart until she couldn't look any more, couldn't care anymore. Kneeling over she pressed her head against the ground and covered it with her arms.
Hands grabbed her shoulders, pulling at her. She resisted, not wanting to see, not wanting to die again. They were insistent, and she yelled at them to stop, to leave her alone. More hands joined the first and she wasn't able to resist.
"I don't want to see," she yelled as they pulled her upright.
"Max?"
It was Chloe's voice, but it couldn't be Chloe. She was dead.
"Max, come back!"
Not able to resist that voice, she opened her eyes. Everything was shrouded in blue. Through it looked a pair of eyes she'd never forget. The smell of smoke and death and destruction faded as Chloe took form. Her face, her beautiful face, followed by her full form.
She knelt in front of her, supporting her with her hands. Other hands were on her shoulders and she heard talking from a distance. With a cry she threw herself at Chloe, gripped her tight around the neck.
"I was…I was back…" her words didn't want to form, filling her mouth with a bitter taste.
"Hey, it's ok," Chloe whispered to her. "I know where you were, what you saw. Let's get you into the car."
With Chloe's help she stood and stumbled to her parent's car. The immense emotions that tore through her earlier were replaced with a numbness.
The blue still tinged everything she saw. Chloe opened the door and she slid in. The loops and lines on her hands glowed brightly as she fastened the seat belt. Her parents slid into the front seats. Her dad looked at her, face twisted with concern. His lips moved but she couldn't make out his words. Giving him a weak smile, she looked at Chloe next to her.
Taking her hand, Chloe kissed it and gave her a smile. The return drive was quick, time seeming to have lost meaning to her. Chloe helped her stumble into the house. She paused for a moment in the entry, debating where she wanted to go, before continuing upstairs.
She collapsed onto her bed. Everything seemed distant. Even Chloe's voice seemed muffled, like she spoke through a barrier. She closed her eyes and fell into blackness.
The storm churned around her, beating her mind and heart as effectively as the wind and cold assailed her body. How many times had she faced this storm? How many times had she cursed it? She thought she'd found a way to beat it. Instead, it was beating her.
"Max…" Chloe's words were laden with grief and care alike. "It's time."
Let her best friend, truly her only friend, die? Or let a town die?
No. Let herself die. Looking at Chloe one last time, she ducked her head and turned away. Stepping to the edge of the bluff, she opened her arms wide. Within the tempest, buried deep in its center she felt its pulse. An erratic, broken pulse of fractured time.
Sinking her consciousness deep within herself, she tapped the power that lay inside. Instead of turning it outward to shape time, she turned it inward.
Max bolted upright in bed, sending the blanket and sheet tumbling away. Sweat drenched her face and arms. The ability to breathe was lost to her and she struggled, trying to draw a breath. Something pressed against her chest, not letting it expand to bring in air.
Slipping from the bed, to her knees, she struggled with her shirt. She had to get it off, had to stop that constriction! As she raised her shirt, something changed inside and suddenly air flowed into her lungs. Falling over, she lay on the floor air rapidly going in and out of her body.
"Max?" Chloe's head peered at her over the edge of the mattress. Her eyes moved to look at Chloe, studying her silhouette. Chloe slipped to the floor next to her, raising her. Holding her against her body, Chloe rocked her, trying to comfort her.
"What…what day is it?" The words hurt her throat as they came.
"It's probably Christmas Day by now."
"Which year?" She swallowed hard, pain lancing her throat.
"2018."
The trip to Seattle came back to her as her eyes wildly scanned their surroundings. They were in her Seattle bedroom. Earlier they had gone to Lincoln Park. She had somehow travelled back to the day her wife died, if only for a few minutes. Then…
"Can…can you talk about what happened today?" Chloe's words were soft and tender.
"I'll…try"
"What happened at the park earlier?"
"I…just wanted to leave. Leave the park. Leave Seattle. Leave everything. When I stepped onto the parking lot, I was back in that firestorm where…" Her heart was pounding again and an insistent need to move, to do something laid hold of her.
She turned her head to see Chloe still tinged in blue. Her hands clung to Chloe's pajama shirt, pulling them close together. "…where you…"
"It's ok," Chloe said as she stroked Max's hair. "You don't have to tell me that part." She tenderly kissed Max's head. "What about now? What happened?"
"A dream…or something. I was back at the lighthouse with you, where I faced the choice. But there was something else…something about the storm…"
When it appeared she wouldn't continue, Chloe said, "What about the storm?"
Shaking her head, Max said, "I don't know."
They stayed there several more minutes before Chloe said, "Can we get back into bed? My butt is going numb." Max nodded, and they returned to the comfort of her bed. Facing Chloe, she snuggled close to her until she felt every curve, every line of her. She wanted to impress that part of Chloe into her, to remember her.
An unfeeling had consumed her earlier in the day and it still held her tight in its grasp. Neither the coarseness of the sheets, the weight of the blanket, nor cushion of the pillow made any sensation against her. But Chloe, she could feel Chloe. Holding her as if she was her only connection to life, she closed her eyes and slipped into sleep.
Christmas came and went. Max went through it all without going through it. It wasn't her hands that open unwrapped presents, nor her mouth uttering words of thanks. It was someone else. Someone she didn't know, couldn't recognize, but looked and acted like her.
Someone else's mouth ate her food and drank her coffee. Another Max entirely smiled at Vanessa and hugged her in thanks. It was someone else, not her, that thanked Ryan for his gift.
A haze obscured part of her vision, tinging everything with a faint blue. A hollowness blocked her hearing, giving everything a tinny, artificial quality.
Breakfast, then presents, then some activities she didn't remember. Lunch came and someone ate the food placed in front of her. Lowered eyebrows and concerned looks surrounded her.
Packed bags rested by the door and a hand led her toward it. Words of…farewell? She couldn't tell. They were words spoken at her. Someone hugged her, or someone like her.
She was in a car and it was driving. Well, of course it was driving. That's what you do in cars. Noise and voices and scents and sensation flooded her. Her body jerked, and she clapped her hands over her ears and closed her eyes as it happened. A cry ripped from her throat as everything overwhelmed her senses. She wanted to slip to the floor, to slip into unconsciousness as everything pounded her.
Several moments passed before she cautiously opened her eyes and uncovered her ears. Punk rock was playing on the stereo and she saw the Portland skyline in the distance.
Lowering her arms, she leaned back, tense and disoriented. "What…what are we doing?" Her throat was dry again. Spying a bottle of soda in the cup holder, she grabbed it, opened it, and took a long drink.
"Headed home Max," came Chloe's voice. It sounded normal again, though filled with something. Chloe's hand moved from the steering wheel to rest on her leg. Relief flooded her at that. "Your parents were disappointed that I ended the visit early. I couldn't keep you there, not with how you were."
How she was? How was she? She looked at her hand holding the body, a tremor shaking the liquid. The shape of the bottle and the coolness of the liquid inside reassured her she could feel. "How I was?"
"Like a robot. You were there, but not there. It was fucking weird. This trip has been really hard on you…" Chloe's hand reached up to take hers. "That's…that's not what I wanted for you. I decided to leave early to get you home, and maybe to a better place."
She looked at Chloe, at the way she studied the road ahead, at the way she held herself. A blue tinge still touched everything she saw. The tinge seemed a bit brighter when she looked at Chloe.
Turning her eyes back to the road ahead, Max focused on the Portland skyline. "Thank you. Thank you for helping me reconnect with my parents. Thank you for trying to make things good for me."
"Any time, Max of Mine."
Clasping Chloe's hand with both of hers, they passed the rest of the trip in silence. There was a tension rolling off Chloe, sending tingles along Max's arms.
They arrived home, to her cozy nest. Tossing her bag into the nook, Max went to the futon and wrapped herself in her favorite blanket. She wanted to shut out the world. But not Chloe. Never Chloe.
As her girlfriend came over, she opened her blanket to allow Chloe entry. Instead of that, Chloe sat next to her. Slipping her arms around Max, she pulled her onto her lap. Deciding she liked that even better, Max rested her head on her shoulder.
"Can we talk about what's been going on?" Chloe's voice was cautious. Max heard her heart beat increase its rate.
Tracing a finger along a seam on Chloe's shirt, Max said, "What do you want to know?"
"I want to know what's really going on with you. There's more to it than mourning and fear of the reset. Your behavior is changing. You give me everything I'd want to be happy, but it's just a shell. It's fake, Max.
"What I want to know…I want to know everything, but I don't know what to ask. I want to help you, to be your partner. You start sharing things with me, then you shut me out. Speak to me, please. Share with me what's going on inside."
Her finger completed the seam and switched to another. The words Chloe spoke were true. There was always a line she couldn't, wouldn't cross.
"You're right," she finally said in a voice lost and afraid. "I'm changing…and I don't know why or how." Her eyes flicked briefly to see Chloe's profile, study the line of her jaw and the flow of her hair.
"People and events from other timelines are crossing into ours. When you find me out of bed at night, it's because I'm…stuck in one of them…with…" She let her voice trail into silence. The next words…she didn't want to hurt her.
Chloe shifted a little under her. "Stuck? Where…oh shit! You're with her, aren't you?"
The words were not spoke in anger. Max lay her hand on Chloe's chest, feeling her heart beat beneath it. "Yes."
"That's got to be…I don't know both happy and sad."
"You're not…mad?"
A short laugh greeted her timid question. "How could I be mad at myself?" She changed position to look into Max's eyes. "How could I be jealous of you spending time with her?"
"Because…she's my wife…and…"
"I'm not," Chloe finished softly. Her fingers brushed Max's cheek tenderly. "It doesn't have to be that way…not forever. I'm not asking for anything now. It's too early for that…for you."
Laying her head against Chloe, she returned to studying her from below. "Thank you. I was…scared that if I told you it would hurt you."
"What hurts is when you shut me out or hide things from me. I always know when you do that you know."
Max's breath caught at that. "She told me the same thing the other night."
"She sounds pretty smart. We'll have to meet sometime."
"You goofball, you are her!"
A bright grin spread across Chloe's face at her words. "That's what I want to hear!"
Studying the grin to capture it, Max thought about everything that had happened since leaving for Kate's. "There's another thing," she said after a few minutes. "After I returned from…seeing your last…death, everything was tinged with blue. It's still there."
Her words brought only a grunt from Chloe. "It's strongest when I look at you," she whispered.
"Well there you go," Chloe said, "obvious proof that I am special."
Her words were playful, but didn't match the tone. "You said before," Chloe continued after a few moments, "that you were broken inside, that everything was disappearing into nothingness. Is that a recent feeling, like since we began dating? Or is that how you've felt over many resets?"
"I've always had an emptiness in me…since I made my choice. I call it a Chloe-shaped hole in my heart." Chloe snickered at that. "The fraying…that started when we were in Arcadia Bay."
Nodding at her answer, Chloe tapped her fingers against Max's leg. "Ok," she said, "thinking only of this timeline, you had an event that forced you to relive a traumatic event. Since then, you've experienced changes in your emotions and ability. Recently these are matched with physical changes, the blue lines and your blue vision. That about right?"
She considered Chloe's words. The list seemed complete. "Yes, that's about right."
"Is there anything about when these changes occur that coincide with each other?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, does one thing cause another thing. What's happening in your mind or with your emotions when the physical changes occur?"
"The blue haze started after…well my emotions were pretty shot. The lines…let me think about that." She paused, moving her gaze to stare at nothing. It had been more than a week since the lines first appeared. Actually, the first line appeared that same day she saw Chloe in the park. There was something else though.
"The first day I returned to work after visiting Arcadia Bay. You came to the shop, and I was so happy, and relieved, that you came to lunch. Something odd happened, which I didn't share before, because I thought it was nothing."
Looking back at Chloe, Max sat up. "I was making a sandwich when you came in-"
"You normally are!"
She ignored the interruption. "It was a tuna sandwich, which I hate making because of the smell. When I heard your voice it made me really happy so I turned to wave at you. When I returned to the sandwich, it was no longer tuna, it was chicken salad.
"That was the first odd thing that happened after the trip. The next day is when the first line appeared. It was when I told you about seeing you in the park, when you were at work. I think…I think I was confused when the line appeared."
"Was it…normal confusion or like really intense?"
"Normal, I think."
Silence descended as they fell into their own thoughts. "Well, maybe there isn't a link between emotions and your changes," Chloe said after a time.
Sighing, Max settled back against her. "Thanks for trying. Visiting Arcadia Bay is the only link I can come up with."
"Well, I'll keep thinking about it. We've got to find a way to beat this, to break you out of the cycle you're stuck in." Chloe's optimism again. Just like always it washed over her, slipping away from whatever inside her resisted it.
"There is another thing," Max said as the churning inside intensified. "Your optimism…causes a strange reaction…" Words seemed to fail her at this point. Could she really tell Chloe that her words hurt her?
"What kind of reaction," Chloe prompted when she didn't continue.
Her hands were moving again as an energy seeped through her. They had to move, had to do something! Just like her eyes could no longer look at Chloe. With face averted and fingers worrying the blanket, Max said, "There's…something inside me, something that doesn't like when you try to encourage me. It fights it and…it…pushes me to not accept…"
"Is it happening now?"
Max nodded. She could no longer speak as the churning became a pressure she had to fight. Nothing made sense. Why would Chloe's attempt to encourage her bring such a strong reaction?
"Damn."
"Can we…can we talk about something else now?"
"How about we talk about making supper?"
Smiling at her request, Max hugged her. "Ok."
Rising, and leaving the blanket on the futon, they went into the kitchen. The pantry and fridge were rather bare. They'd need to go shopping tomorrow.
They ate a simple supper, cleaned the kitchen, then unpacked their bags. Chloe put on a movie when they were ready for bed. Max fell asleep in Chloe's arms, which arguably is the best way to fall asleep.
Days passed, and they returned to their routine. After the chaos of the Christmas trip, Max went back to making breakfast and dinner. She gave all that she could to Chloe to make her content and happy. Chloe didn't try to fight it, although she did her best to help.
The conversation they'd had that night slipped into the past, as well as the progress they'd made. Max responded to questions about herself and happiness with simple words and deflecting smiles.
No other timeline shenanigans occurred. Max's wife didn't visit her again, no matter how much she wished in her heart for that to happen.
Each weekend they found themselves at Steph and Rachel's, playing games and watching movies. Occasionally they'd have the girls to their place. Max's cozy nest was so small it made a group of four awkward at best.
In between weekends, Max would find private places to hide. Places that kept her apart, yet attached, to the world. She eventually reached a point of equilibrium that she worked hard to maintain.
A few Fridays the four of them spent at the music venue Chloe had discovered. Chloe, Rachel, and Steph shared an interest in energetic, punk music and they had a blast when they went out. Max found solace in the nice earplugs the other girls got for her. They brought the music down to a volume she enjoyed.
Chloe continued her mission to find them a better place to live. She found a few that they visited. Some were quite cute. Each time they found a reason to not pursue a lease agreement.
Max continued working on photo shoots and scouting. The weather had turned quite warm in early January, removing all the snow. That allowed her to get several shoots that she developed and sold to Steph.
The photo shop was doing better. One of her former workmates had found a job elsewhere doing photography. On one of her uses of the lab, the owner spoke to her about rejoining the shop. The offer was appealing, since it paid so well. However, she'd have to give up some of her freedom she'd enjoyed the last couple of months. She told the owner she'd have to think about it.
Max and Kate kept up the communications started during that overnight visit. Each girl kept the other well informed and connected with each other's life. Kate provided a secondary source of comfort and support to Max, which she sorely needed. Max gave Kate some critiques, tips, and support on a new children's book Kate was writing. Max didn't tell Kate what the big meanies actually were.
Days became weeks, and December turned into January. The blue tinge to Max's vision faded, leaving no discernible change. The visions, visits from other timelines, and glowing lines made no reappearance. Everything was as normal as could be.
Except of course nothing was normal, not for Max. There was something in her, growing in strength. Each pleasant word from Chloe, each pleasant emotion, it fed on these. The internal singing she'd sensed also grew in volume. Some days it was hard to think, it was so distracting.
The distant harmonic also grew in volume. Although still faint, the singing was discernible now. An ever changing presence that lurked at the edges of her senses, it haunted her night and day.
Max decided she needed something to focus on, something to distract her from changes she didn't understand and feared. Thus, on one of her days off, she purchased a plant. Her last had been Lisa, back in her Blackwell days. She wanted something she could care for, something that had no expectations, something that wouldn't press for answers or attention.
Carrying the small plant and other supplies upstairs, she placed everything on the counter. Clearing off the table, she began work transferring Lisa II to a larger pot. She was rather happy when finished. Throwing away the original plastic pot, she turned the clay pot back and forth with her hands, admiring her plant.
Lisa II was not very tall, being a young plant. Her new home would give her lots of growing space. Humming a happy tune, Max turned the pot. What would Lisa be like when she was older?
In mid-turn, Lisa suddenly shot into the air, growing several feet in a moment! Under her hands the clay fractured and fell into dust, coating the table with colored residue. Before Max could do anything, Lisa turned brown, then grey, and shriveled into death.
Max sat, mouth open, eyes not blinking. Potting soil, colored dust, and more coated her hands, arms, table, and the floor. What the hell just happened?