On a wooden table, illuminated by the sunlight pouring through a nearby window, a vase with a single, white flower sits, by itself. The petals of the floor drop together like a concave bell, catching the glow of the rays circling them, and shimmering ever-so-faintly as the light bathes them. The flower sits in its solitude as the sun makes its way down the sky, changing its angle of refraction through the glass pane nearby. The new shape of the light as it descends casts a new aura about the flower every hour so, revealing a distinct facet of the blossom's composition each time. how veins alight along its surface, thin under the veil of petals, but large enough to notice. How the bud-turned-overbloom tapers at the end, curling in on itself like its fragrant center holds a  secret to be concealed. how the curve of the stem is like the arduous bending of a sturdy beam, barely at the pinnacle of its flexibility before it snaps and sends its precious payload tumbling hundreds of feet to the ground. How, at one time, the vase might have looked less empty than it does now.

The flower stands in the light until, as the sun begins its golden-violet disappearance over the horizon, all of its light vanishes. The window is bathed in black. The curtains make a tidy ‘hiss’ as they’re pulled shut.

In darkness, the flower stands for a moment until it, and its vase, are picked up. The vase’s water is emptied into the sink with a high-pitched trickle, and the flower is removed. It’s set on the counter until the vase is empty, upon which the vase takes its place, and the flower is lifted gingerly and carried across the room to a shelf. The shelf is lined with books, as well as nick-nacks and other objects: coins, pens, a feather or two. on the second-to-bottom shelf, there is an ornate but simple woodn box with a gold clasp on the front. The flower is put in front of it.

A small corner of paper sticks out from underneath the box. After the flower is set down, the hoof that placed it there pulls out the scrap of paper. It keeps it for several seconds. After a short while, the hoof returns and jams the paper so far under the wooden box that it disappears from site.

As the shelf is left, a single, ivory petal falls from the flower and lands softly, silently, on the ground.