a distant home

It is a gray morning, pearls of rain rolling down the windows. Enkas is standing in the kitchen to watch the weather, almost like every morning now. A storm is coming. Of course, he is used to weather like this. This is normal. Yet, he must be careful and watch. The dome-like window above him may be steady and can endure harsh weather conditions, as it has to, but if it breaks, or even shows a hint of cracking a hint of cracking, he'll have to evacuate. A storm is coming. The clouds break open partially and tease Enkas with a small peak of what he had dreamt of seeing on the daily. The rain is hitting the windows harder now, playing its own drum solo, but Enkas is only gazing at the sight above him. The rings of Jupiter are strung across the sky, proudly, like a silver lining for him, before the clouds hide them again. A storm has arrived.

(cw: violence and death)

Edith's garden always secured a spot in the parade of homes. How could it not? It looked like paradise framed by lush rhododendron bushes. Birds would sing hymns, bumblebees would dance through the air before resting on zinnias. It was a place that proved the concept of love at first sight.

Every year, walkers and visitors would ask frail, old Edith about her secret. How was she able to tend to this enormous garden? Did she have helpers? And how do her plants always grow so lusciously? Little old Edith would only reply with a little laugh and a shrug, before continuing her gardening.

She would never share her secrets and she was sure that her helpers wouldn't either.

After all, she made sure to cut them into the smallest, unrecognizable bits before mixing them into the soil.

This is just a test, please ignore!

She was in her rebellious phase; sometimes even acting up against the laws of gravity.

When she was annoyed and felt misunderstood, she'd float up to the ceiling, before walking away on it.

She was careful, however, otherwise she might end up floating into the dark depths of space.