Extinguished

Photo by Takot

Talia wished the fireflies were real. She could remember running through the reeds of her father's lake-side home trying to bottle them in a mason jar. Talia cupped her hands together. The not-fireflies hovered over her skin, blinking like discordant notes on a piano. Talia dropped her hands. The flies scattered. They burned through the illusion only inches away and everything blinked off. The lake, the reeds, the smell of old wood- it was gone again. Talia's ten daily minutes of mental stimulation were finished.

 The walls of her room were a particular shade of light blue scientifically proven to encourage tranquility. Her chair was vacuum-formed to her exact shape and reclined to a precisely optimal angle. Talia had come to detest blue and reclining chairs. She remained standing until a warning light flooded the room crimson red. Talia sat. The chair reclined. The room turned blue. Above her, a single yellow light blinked. She stared at it while the hive brain connected the socket in the back of her skull. The hive brain breached her consciousness. Talia's last personal thought was of fireflies dying in the mason jar.

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