(no subject)

[simon_doctor]

The dividing line between sunlight and shadow is just crossing this particular slice of this particular planet, as it rotates away from its parent star.

Which is to say: it's early evening. Three tiny moons race each other backwards across the sky, away from the last embers of the sunset, growing and phasing towards full, white and pale gold against the deepening blue, pacing their brilliant reflections in the deeper blue water of a glimmering lake.

There are no higher life forms on this planet yet: its indigenous life hasn't advanced much past fairly small insects and lizards, and it'll be some centuries yet before any human colony ships make it this far.

Which may leave the casual observer at a loss to explain the tiny snug house at the edge of the lake, or the carefully tended grove of fruit trees behind it.

Comments

[gonna_live]

If the casual observer were to see what comes next, they'd likely blink, and rub their eyes -- and then leave, convinced that they were the untimely victims of a blob of mustard or a bit of underdone potato.

Here's what comes next: two people appear where before there was nothing. They fade in -- not from top down, or bottom up. All at once.

Kaylee looks around. Looks up at Simon, who's got his arm through hers -- she needed her hands free to operate the key in the lock. Looks around again.

Over one shoulder she has a long strand of Christmas lights, wound as an explorer would wind a rope for transportation.

It's warm, and it's lovely, and it smells like lilacs -- sweet, and heady.