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See into my muses past! Send 🔮 and I will write a drabble of a memory that your muse gets to see into.
He made it himself.
His wife built the drone for their daughter, lovingly called the Spectral Processing and Ocular Transfer Drone but realistically just called Spot.
It was a joke, really. Drawn, written, printed, stitched together by himself, a small children’s book: A Drone Named S.P.O.T.
The book in hand, he sat on the edge of Allison’s bed, setting her on his lap. He inched the book into her hands, and she giggled, pointing at the cartoonish drone. “It has a spot on its face,” she stated, swinging her legs.
“Hmm, I wonder if that’s why it’s called S.P.O.T.,” he replied, nothing but childish banter in his tone as he smirked down at her.
She returned the look, a wide grin on her face and happiness in her eyes.
Quentin read the book to her. In all honesty, it was tedious and repetitious, but she remained engrossed, eager to grab at the cartoony “Puppy Drone” as she dubbed it.
S.P.O.T. can fly.
S.P.O.T. can hide.
S.P.O.T. can roll over.
S.P.O.T. can fetch.
S.P.O.T. can come when you call.
...and on and on it went.
“Why are there dots in her name?” Allison asked eventually.
“Don’t worry about it,” Quentin replied, seeing no way of explaining acronyms to the young girl, and wrapped his arm around her, letting her hold the book.
A cutesy book, yes, but in reality a way to explain the features of the drone his wife planned to gift her tomorrow. Since his daughter couldn’t exactly read the technical manual that his wife had written up to go with it.
“...S.P.O.T. loves you.” Quentin gently closed the book in her hands, peering down at her grin as she held the book to her chest.
“I love Spot too!” she said, giggling as he picked her up and stood, laying her down in bed.
He pulled the covers over her, a soft smile across his face before he turned away. “Go the fuck to sleep.”
“That’s a bad word!” she squawked, squirming in bed, but losing the battle against her own laughter.
“Good night, darling,” Quentin said, leaving the room, softly shutting the door behind him.
His wife’s gift would certainly be better, but the fact that she loved his too brought a warmth to his chest.
