She slowly covers her tiny sphericle with a loosely woven blanket, taking a languid glance at the swirling pulsing promiseful life it shone.
This one will last.
Her eyes roam around flitting over the unfortunate blanket choices of the past and the sphericles who paid for her mistakes with their promise.
The thick blankets stole too much light and warmth away while the sheer ones let sparks of flame pass through, much to her dismay.
She wonders if this is her time to pass the test and then wonders if she’s ever wondered anything else at all. Her mind swims with sphericles and blankets – some pale, almost forgotten, others as bright as the undying fire and just as painful to touch.
This one is the one.
Some time later she slowly uncovers the sphericle and watches its promise pulse and swirl with hastening intensity that she knows can only go on for a short time.
She lays down on her back next to the sphericle, listening to it hum, she slowly covers them both with the perfect blanket, listening to it quiet down, she blinks at the little spots of light shining through the weave and enjoys how they seem to twinkle as soft breezes whisper through her infinite garden.