#visuscaecus

[wantedtobuildalogcabin-blog]

@visuscaecus liked for a starter

“Really? I’m the only one with the authority here to let that happen. Don’t push me,” she mentioned to him and looked straight at him. 

[benefitcrhazard-blog]

∞

My Muse’s reaction to yours taking their hand | Accepting

Despite his visual impairment, Niander Wallace sat in the flower conservatory on the same stone bench, on the same day every week. It was on one of these days, that Mae ventured into the luxuriant jungle-like room, her mind grasping for something to stimulate her imagination, calm her mind, and offer a little bit of room for her senses to breathe.

Choosing a spot next to him on the bench, the stillness of the quieted room enveloped them during their shared meditation. She examined an incredibly perfect Dahlia from afar, it’s deeply rich magenta hues accented by its curving folds, like a scene emerging from a children’s fairy tale pop-up book. The sound of water in motion from a nearby pond provided a relaxing soundtrack to their afternoon spent in Wallace’s botanical beacon. Yet, despite it all, a softly discontented look washed over Mae’s face. Perhaps it was the feel of being surrounded by all of the photosynthetic life in the room. Unlike her, these plants had a basic and simple purpose, an important one, to supply an imperative cycle of energy necessary for life on Earth. Like her, they had been genetically modified by the same creator in order to thrive in this new world, and withstand its changing climate.

While her mind still wandered, the steady blue of her eyes was focused on the Victoria Amazonia, the giant water lily, and with a smooth cold feeling, she recognized the soft texture of her creator’s hand enveloping her own. It was almost as if he could sense that she was unhappy, and his fingers clasped between hers with a gentle squeeze of tenderness. She had come here for stimulation, had wanted to see the flowers in their exuberant growth and beauty, but what she received instead was a much needed sense of comfort. That Wallace understood the feeling, and could sympathize with a child of his own creation, that single silent acknowledgment caused her to close her eyes at the satisfaction of knowing that she was not alone. A single tear falling down the side of her face, she smiled, and her mind was calmed for once.