Vase

Vase

Roger wandered around the flower shop. Red, blue, yellow blossoms standing on display in their vases. Like all beautiful things they had a rather brief lifespan. Why had he thought that? It was one of those things he was relieved he hadn’t said aloud. It would have either gotten him into an argument or gotten him a round of laughter, which would have made him feel guilty. He was looking for something that popped. Something that would pop out when his wife got home.

It wasn’t that he was the perfect husband that buys his wife flowers regularly. Nor was it that he needed to apologize for something. He liked to make the effort with a nice gesture now and then. They had a solid marriage. In twelve years they hadn’t had any major disagreements or conflicts. No lipstick stains left by secretaries or bedroom doors flung open to reveal a pool boy in their bed. Everyone likes a little reminder sometimes that their partner does still think of them. The white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies that were wafting all the way to the front door and which he found not yet done baking the night before had reminded him that she was due her own reminder. She had always loved daisies. She had told him very early into their relationship that roses were predictable.

“Roses are red

Violets are blue

Don’t be so cliché”

He always remembered that when shopping for her. “Is this too predictable?” He would ask someone working in the store, holding up a dress. “No Surprise from a man in predictable.” He was sure that Janet wouldn’t agree with that at all. Her disdain for the cliché extended to flowers as an apology. He had only tried it one time, regrettably. He held the flowers out- “When I look at flowers you bought me for no reason other than to make me happy, i think of how they made me happy. When you bring me flowers to apologize for pissing me off, I remember how you pissed me off.” He slowly pulled the flowers away. It was a $19.99 lesson he had held onto.

He continued browsing the aisles Scanning the flowers in their temporary plastic containers. Waiting to be bought and repotted before they began drooping. Passing some perky tulips he wished them luck. Bags of mulch and lady bug patterned gloves told him he had made his way to the gardening section. A bouquet was a goldfish, a garden was a dog. The young man behind the counter made his way over.

“Can I help you, sir?”

“I’m fine, thanks. Well- I’m looking for some flowers for my wife. She likes daisies.”

“We have some that are just budding. Right over here.”

“I was actually thinking I might get her something different. Surprise her.”

“Ok. Anything particular?”

“Do you have anything unusual?”

“Most of the people looking to spice things up skip the flowers and go to Whips & Roses across town.”

“Well I definitely don’t want roses, and I’m pretty sure I don’t want whips.”

“You know, a vase can really make a difference. If Lady Liberty were built in the middle of a detention camp the message wouldn’t really come across.”

The shop attendant had managed to mentioned a BDSM store and politics in the span of a few minutes. Roger wondered if he gave off the impression that he wanted to talk about BDSM and detention camps, and what that said about him if he did. That he was very enthused by restriction he supposed.

“Do you have any unusual vases or should I go to Ceramics & Ball Gags for those?” He decided to join in on the questionable jokes.

“Right this way.”

His eyes went down the lines of vases. He really wasn’t sure how to tell if one was really something special. Then, his eyes came to a screeching halt. Burning the tracks of his line of sight. He scanned his across the vase to the right. Then the left. From one angle the vase appeared solid. From another, translucent. He moved closer. He stood on the left side, then scuffled to the right side. Up close the vase was the same opaqueness from either side. He moved back again.

Solid.

Clear.

Solid.

Clear.

“Interesting isn’t it?”

Roger turned his head, seeing the young man who he now remembered had been there the whole time.

“Yes. I’m surprised it hasn’t sold yet.”

“$1,000.”

Roger had been in an increasing state of surprise ever since he had started speaking to the shop attendant.

“One thousand dollars for a vase?”“It’s a one of a kind. We’re not even sure how they made it. Tremendous craftsmanship.”

“Sorcery.” Roger immediately couldn’t believe he had genuinely said. He laughed hoping to play it off. Spending $1,000 on a vase was not something he ever thought he would consider. Going home without this vase was also hard to consider. It was truly amazing. One of a kind. Tremendous Craftsmanship. Sorcery.

He turned to the attendant, “$700.”

“No man.”

“Ok. I’ll take it.”

The vase was wrapped in multiple layers of newspaper and placed snugly in a cardboard box. Roger momentarily thought he should call his insurance provider and check if they covered vases. He carried it and the daisies he had bought for his wife to his car. $1,025 was a hell of a random gesture. He hadn’t been able to remember what color of orchids were her favorite. He was pretty sure it was yellow. It was either yellow or definitely not yellow.

Janet clutched the bottle of Rose under her left arm. The other, less important, groceries were wedged between her knees as she unlocked the front door. The yellow daisies stood on display on the living room table. Holding them was a gorgeous crystal vase. It caught the light perfectly, the rays encapsulated in the vase.

“Did you see how it changes from different angles?”

Janet turned to see Roger, eyebrows raised.

“That’s how angles work, honey.”

“No...well yeah… but…” Roger guided her by her shoulders to show her the discovery.

“Oh wow. It really does. How?”

“No idea. Pretty cool, right?”

“Yes, thank you Roger.”

“You’re welcome, my dear.”

He took the groceries and they went into the kitchen. The stove was set to medium-low and their glasses of Rose clancked. He was relieved she hadn’t asked him how much he had paid for the vase.

It always amazed him that as you got older wisdom wasn’t suddenly imprinted into your brain. When you became a teenager you didn’t suddenly know everything you would need to know to survive until adulthood. On one hand this meant a few knicks while learning to shave. On the other it meant not knowing to avoid alcohol and making a jock mad at a high school party. When Janet and he got married neither of them were gifted with the answers to living together without driving one another crazy. Even the book Janet’s mother gifted her, Especially in Bad Times, could prepare them for the rough patches. At this point they were in a comfortable place. They were solid. They both put in the effort to keep it that way. He couldn’t say he hit the gym as much as he should, or that he hit the junk food aisle as little as he should. Neither could Janet. But she still looked amazing, unfairly Roger thought. To her credit she never gave him much grief about the slight softening middle age is known the bring. They hadn’t decided from the start to not have kids. As the “deadline” grew nearer they simply decided that they weren’t dying for the addition of a little one, and they could always get another cat. A cat that wouldn’t get into boy trouble, or girl trouble. Or drug trouble, or ever say “I hate you!” or anything besides “Meow”. Meow was more their ideal. They were both always very dedicated to work. Sometimes too dedicated, and too absorbed to remind the other to enjoy a day of relaxation. The positive being that there was never any animosity over being too distracted by work. Whenever they were both ready to check out they settled into each other’s company like it was the only thing on their mind. And it usually was.

A Few Weeks Later

The young man at the flower shop with the inclination to talk only of non-Thanksgiving table topics had been very right about the vase. She was still in love it, although she had been so busy she hadn’t thought about it much the last week or so. She swung the front door open, always one for a grand entrance (only when no one could see it that is) and made her way to the living room. She set her purse down, kicked her shoes off, and nestled onto the couch. She set off on her daily scroll through all of the social medias that she had gotten into the habit of browsing. Once she was done she laid her phone on the cushion beside her and looked over at her flowers. She was surprised. Roger must have replaced them. She hadn’t even noticed until now that the flowers should had already been dead. They looked fresh as could be. The only thing she didn’t like about getting flowers was how quickly they were gone. Roger had never replaced them before, he had never even been the one to throw them once they had died. Perhaps he didn’t want to throw her gift out, no matter how low the blossoms drooped or how many petals had been shed.

Roger had bought new flowers. A vase like that was deserving of fresh flowers, always. So was his wife. Guilt rushed in for that being his second reason. In the last couple weeks he had thought more about a vase than in his entire life up to that point. He had been thinking about the vase more than any other subject. Literally, any other subject at all: soccer, food, cars, sex, politics (which he was still trying to disassociate with sex), and even work. He spent half an hour after work in the flower shop looking for the perfect flowers. He had tried to find the best words to describe the color of the living room walls. Searching through lists of shades of blue. He got pretty close he thought, ultramarine. Finally, after narrowing it down to his top five, with a sixth outlier candidate, he found his winner. Janet would already be home, but he could still surprise her.

He opened the door, flowers forward, and greeted his wife.

“Hey hon.”

Jantet turned and looked at his outstretched arm, the flowers he was holding. Then back at the the living room table. He looked too.

“You bought yourself new flowers?” he asked standing at her side now.

“No. I thought you did.”

“I did.” he looked at the flowers he was holding. “But not those. I didn’t check i just assumed that they had already died.”

“They should have. It’s been a while since you bought them.”

“Probably GMO’s. GMO’s can do anything. They have grapes that taste like cotton candy.”

“It’s just really weird. They don’t look old at all.”

“I’m sure in another few days death will rush up and snatch the pigment from those petals.”

“I guess so.”

They stood at the kitchen counter, bowls of oatmeal and cups of coffee.

“Have a good day.” kiss.

As Janet walked by the living room table she looked over. Vibrant.

Roger finished his coffee and put the dishes in the sink. As he walked by the living room table he looked over. Damnit, they should be dead. The flowers sat on his mind throughout the entire day. It’s not as if it’s anything sinister, he told himself. Just flowers that are living longer than most.

When Roger got home he went straight for the living room table. In the vase were the white daisies he had bought the previous day. Janet came into the room holding a whisk.

“So I was right. They died.”

“No. The vampire flowers are in the kitchen.”

HIs smile dropped, as he wished the flowers would.

“They still look the same?”

“As far as I can tell. I thought I’d go ahead and set the these out, hopefully they won’t outlive us too.”

“They’re going to die. They have to.”

“Shhhhh. They might hear you.”

Roger hoped he didn’t have a Little Shop of Horrors situation on his hands. Janet would kill him if the flowers ate her cat.

Roger made his way down the dark hall, down the staircase, into the kitchen. Moonlight glowing on the walls. There on the counter the flowers sat, all but completely dead. Relief exiled the confusion from his mind. He took a glass form the cabinet and filled it with tap water, drinking slowly. All was right.

When he started to notice it he could feel his skin start to itch. Crawling with distress. Every morning he would check. Every morning he would whisper “Goddamn” under his breath. The The white daisies Janet had replaced the first flowers with looked like they had just been brought in from the garden. They didn’t have a garden, and the daisies were over two weeks old now.

Janet’s phone buzzed. A text from Roger. It was a picture of dead flowers, it looked like two bundles. She texted back a question mark.

I replaced the flowers, haha, vampire flowers aren’t real babe

But vampires might be, so I hope you have a clove of garlic in your purse, and enchilada sauce

I forgot to buy enchilada sauce for dinner

Of course. She never knew he was such a good actor. She never tried to pull anything like that, she would bust out laughing and give herself away.

He had replaced the flowers again and brought the white daisies to his office in a cheap vase he bought at the flower shop.

“Dude, flowers?” Mark. Practically grimacing as he looked at Roger’s desk.

“Yeah, dude.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to bring a little life into my space.”

Mark walked away without responding. Probably for the best. If these flowers died and the flowers at home didn’t- he would have to admit it. His favorite vase in the whole damn world was haunted.

“You believed it!”

“I didn’t know what to think!” Janet laughed.

Victoria laughed and shook her head, “He tricked you.”

“Yes he did.” Janet had giggled her way through the story of the flowers and their eternal youth. Victoria asked if she had any plans to get Roger back. Janet had known as soon as he had told her that she had to get him back. She couldn’t think of any plans though.

“We can brainstorm.” Victoria nodded as they left the office.

“Give me your top five ideas at dinner Saturday.” Janet said.

“Maybe we can have the waiter sneak something into his food.”

“Victoria, I want to prank him back not murder him.”

“You sure would get the last play if you did.” Their humor concerned her when she allowed herself to think about it.

Roger pulled the car into a spot at the back of the parking lot. He always did. While other cars would circle around and around, only taking a far away spot in a huff of defeat. It was nice to have a little walk. Victoria was Janet’s best friend, they went to the same college and got hired at the same firm. Victoria met Mark at Roger’s company picnic. Roger and Mark weren’t friends even though they had worked at the same company for three years at that point. Which only became awkward when they were suddenly going on double dates every other weekend. Victoria and Mark waved them over. Roger hated how they always showed up early. It was one of those things that you didn’t think much of at first. Until you realized they were always early. Their car was always clean. They always knew what they wanted when the server asked if they were ready to order. Once, out of nowhere, Mark told him that if they ever needed relationship advice to not hesitate to ask. Hopefully Mark spilled salsa on his shirt.

Roger and Janet smiled and sat down.

“We’re ready whenever, take your time.” Mark said, as if he were challenging them. He had an urge to say that they spotted a beautiful café on as they were driving in and decided to stop and try it out, but they didn’t want to cancel the dinner plans so they came anyway. If Mark realized he was in fact behind he might combust.

“And can we get some guacamole too, thanks.” Mark turned back to the table and smiled. “I love how the salsa has corn in it.”

“It is good.” Did Mark not realize how uninterested in small talk he was? He tries to make it very clear. Was he not being clear enough? Did he need to reply to everything Mark said with “Choke on a piece of corn, please.” No. He shouldn’t say please. Mark might misinterpret his intentions.

“How has work been girls?” Mark asked.

“Same as usual.” Janet replied. “ Becky makes everything harder than it needs to be and I think my secretary is having an affair with someone in the office. How about you guys?” Roger almost sighed in relief that she didn’t say boys.

“Not too much to report.” Private Mark answered. “You know, I did notice the other day that Roger is getting in touch with his feminine side.”

“What do you mean?” Janet giggled.

“Rog has some flowers on his desk. They really bring out the blue in his computer wallpaper.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. I wish you didn’t think helping me with the garden would rob you of all your testosterone.” Victoria said.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Janet’s voice was serious .

Not here. He didn’t know how to respond. She knew. They sure as hell couldn’t know. God, the last thing he wanted was for Mark to be involved in this situation. He didn’t even really knew what the situation was.

“You didn’t tell me you got flowers. Does that mean you’ll finally pause Gorefest 5 and give me a hand in our garden.”

“I wanted to start learning how to take care of them so i could surprise you.” Roger thought that it she could lie about having a garden then he could lie about the flowers.

“That’s sweet. We can learn together.”

“I’d like that.” Roger looked into her eyes. The drive home was going to be fun.

“Ok-”

“No, no no. We’re not at ok, Roger.”

“I was just trying to figure out what’s going on.”

“You didn’t actually replace the flowers.”

“No.”

“It’s not vampire flowers, it’s a vampire vase.”

“I don’t think that’s the term.”

“There is no term. It’s not a regular thing.”

:It’s not like anybody got hurt, calm down.”

“We don’t know what it can do. Or why it does it. Or how it does it.”

They sat in silence for a moment

“It makes it worse that you felt the need to hide it from me. You could have just come out and told me that some weird sci-fi shit is going on. My cookies didn’t grow legs and run around the kitchen.”

“This is the strangest argument I’ve ever been in.”

Janet sat in bed under the covers. It was strange. It was inconsequential as far as they knew. Harmless. But that didn’t explain what it was. Every thought she had about it made her face twist in confusion. What were they supposed to do with it? She understood now why Roger didn’t tell her.

“We have to find where the vase came from.” Janet said appearing in the hall to the living room.

Roger almost mentioned the argument, then decided it best to not bring it up if she wasn’t going to.

“I can ask the flower shop if they know anything.”

“That would be a good place to start.” He deserved the snark.

A young woman had taken the place of the young man behind the counter. Roger approached her and hoped for the best.

“I bought a vase from your shop a while ago, this vase.” He set the cardboard box on the counter and pulled the vase from it.

“I was hoping you might be able to tell me where it came from.”

She inspected the vase.

“It’s definitely not a common one, so it’s probably from Ricardo.

“Ricardo?” Roger asked.

“He makes beautiful vases. We don’t get them very often since they’re so expensive, but he does really lovely work. And he doesn’t give them to many shops, he likes to keep his work local.”

“You’re sure that’s where it came from?”

“I’m sure it looks like his work.”

Roger felt a tingle of discovery, he felt like a detective closing in on the killer. The man with the milky white eye who never leaves a trace.

“Show me the bottom.”

Roger found himself in reality and help the vase up, pointing the bottom towards her.

“Look.”

He flipped the vase and looked at the bottom.

R

“Do you know how I can contact Ricardo?”

“I don’t have a phone number for him. I do have his address. He doesn’t do deliveries, we always have to go check if he has any vases available.”

She pulled out a sticky note and scrawled his address. “I’m trusting you with this.”

Roger thanked her as she handed it to him and took his keys from his pocket before he had even reached the shop door. He nearly did a burnout as he left the parking lot.

“I got Ricardo’s address!”

“Who’s Ricardo?” Janet asked.

Roger remembered that he had to explain the information he had just learned.

“He made the vase.”

Two sets of legs ran for the car like it was a cruise ship that paid you a million dollars to board. Neither of them had bothered to think of it was polite to arrive at a stranger’s house at 7 p.m., it isn’t of course. Had they realized that neither of them could be bothered to wait until the next day.

They pulled into the driveway, opening their doors in sync. Roger knocked loudly on the door three times. Manners were still firmly outside of his circle of thought. Just before he was going to knock again he heard the lock turn. The door opened, a small man with graying hair stood in the entrance.

“Can I help you?”

As Roger finished recounting the events Ricardo sipped on his tea. He had offered Roger and Janet a drink. They had both declined. Ricardo made himself a cup anyway, mentioning drinks had reminded him of the herbal blend he had in his cabinet. To Roger watching him brew tea at a time like this was like looking for a quarter you had dropped when you just found out you won the lottery. As he was explaining the vase to Ricardo he realized quite quickly that Ricardo wasn’t surprised by any of it.

“I believe I found that particular crystal in South America. Around a year ago. Of course I had no idea what capabilities it had then. After I made the first vase from it I noticed it much like how you did.”

“And you still sold it to a random flower shop?” Janet posed.

“Best Buds is who I sell most of my vases to. They care about flowers.” Ricardo responded.

“That’s why you sold it. You wanted someone else to see what it can do?”

“I suppose. I put a lot of work into it. I couldn’t just set it on some shelf.”

Roger felt like bringing up that’s what vases are made for, but got back on track.

“I think we should tell people about this.”

“Ricardo looked over at Roger, “I don’t want to make a fiasco of it.”

“I think you’re underselling this.” Janet interfered, “The vase can stop flowers from dying. It’s extraordinary. Who knows how those abilities could be used.”

“Rich people will probably blend it up into their apple cider vinegar, kale, superfood smoothies on their quest for eternal life.” Ricardo shuddered.

“You could have kept it to only yourself, but you didn’t. We don’t even have to ask for your permission. It’s a courtesy.” Ricardo looked hurt. Maybe this meant more to him than he had shown, Roger Thought.

“I know exactly where I found the crystal. I remember the moment. Before I even knew what it could do I was in love with it. I was on a mining trip in Colombia. Mining quartz. When I found it I thought it was beautiful. Once i started working with it left me breathless. The way it guided me as I chiseled it. I did want someone else to know. I needed someone else to know. I didn’t know who to tell. So I thought I’d let someone find it for themselves. Then I thought that might be a mistake. It’s so strange. And I don’t know what people will say of it.”

“Once people see it they can’t deny it. They can only ask how.” Janet leaned in and looked at Ricardo.

Ricardo sunk into his seat with a silent huff.

The reporter was trying to hide his reaction. He didn’t believe Roger and Janet. Releasing a fake story is a top tier no-no in journalism. He wasn’t putting his neck anywhere near the line for a cryogenic vase. It would be amazing if it were true, in the most mundane way.

“How could you prove it?” Jason, the reporter, reluctantly bit.

“Livestream.” Janet said.

“A livestream? Of the Vase?”

“We show what the base does. Then no one can question it.”

“Who’s going to watch a livestream of a vase?”

“Everyone that laughs at the story. They have to get their proof that they’re right. That we’re crazy.”

She made a good point. No one could completely write it off when the “evidence” was right there.

“OK. Let’s break this vase... uh the story about the vase not the actual vase.”

Jason set the vase on a table in an otherwise empty and unused room at his office. He set up the camera and hit record. His article had just been published with the link to the livestream at the bottom. The viewers trickled in, and trickled out. The story garnered some interest for sure. A confused sort of interest. The interest rose, a conversation was inflamed, discussions were had. What would the repercussions be if the vase actually halted the flower’s death? Could it be used elsewhere? How had the special quartz never been found before? Had it? Or was it how the vase was made? Who made the vase?

Ricardo was very hesitant to talk to any reporters about the vase. His mixed and regretful feelings remained. Roger and Janet felt like they were reliving the entire adventure again. Their doubts had finally been erased and now they had to wait for everyone else to catch up.

“Now that it truly seems that this whole thing isn’t a hoax what is your opinion on this vase?” The anchor asked the farmer who was connected via video chat.

“I don’t even believe that so called livestream isn’t just a frozen picture. Vases don’t stop flowers from dying. You cut a flower, it dies. That vase doesn’t have the nutrients of the soil, the energy of the sun. I’m not sure why people are being fooled by it.”

“Well there was a clock sitting next to the vase, to prove that it was in fact live. The livestream was also being overseen by people that wanted to disprove the claim.”

“And you believe it. Because of that. Have you seen movies these days? They can make someone look 30 years younger than they are. They can show us space. They can make it look like a giant T. Rex is fighting a Gorilla, looks as real as two boxers going at it. That could be fake for all we know! They can make a shark come out of a tornado. They can sure as shit put a clock into that livestream that ain’t there.”

“Ok. Thank you.”

The room was dim. They settled in and turned their attention to the man that had gathered them all here. CEO of Grown by Love, Robert Stanton. He Remained standing.

“I think everyone is aware of why we are here today. I would like to talk about what we can do about why we’re here.”

“It’s the vase right? Just to be clear.” CEO of Blooming Greenhouses, Seth Vince spoke up.

“It’s the vase. As I was saying, I’d like to talk about what we can do to ensure this outrageous vase doesn’t topple all of our businesses.”

“Just because the vase keeps flowers alive doesn’t mean people won’t buy flowers. They’ll want to switch it up. They’ll still want hanging flowers, flowers for their garden, flowers for bouquets. You can’t put those in a vase.” President of Sensational Selections, Julie Harrison, countered.

“If you think it’s going to stop at a vase, then you’re a fool. They’re going to implement this voodoo into every aspect of the market they can. That is when we will be looking at our crops shrivel up, unsold, untouched, unseen by everyone who will have no need for them. If you think last year’s roses won’t be this year’s roses, and next year’s roses, and on and on every year after that, then you are mistaken. Personally, I am not trying to be toppled by some Jim Henson miracle crystal bullshit.”

“So, just what are you suggesting, Robert?” Vice President of Nature’s Kiss, Tim Lee, asked.

Robert pulled a chair out and sat.

“I’m suggesting that we raise concern over how the vase stops the process of dying. How else could it be used? Who will implement its capabilities? What damage might it bring? Is it worth the risk?”

“Why is it so dark in here?” Manager of Love Grows, Joe Clark, blurted.

“If they find out how to mass produce these wonder vases then you can get used to it being dark.”

“Upon deep research into the livestream footage it has been confirmed that the fly larvae has indeed been inside the vase this entire time. It should have hatched weeks ago, but it is completely unchanged. This raises the question- what exactly does this vase mean when it comes to searching for a cure for terminal illnesses?”

“I think it’s a stretch to assume that the vase has the power to cure cancer. Its uses and capabilities are unknown, therefore potentially dangerous.

“Why is it a stretch that the vase could be helpful, but likely that it could be harmful?”

“Anything that can be used to gain an advantage in warfare, will be used to gain an advantage. No matter who it is that discovers it there would be negative implications.”

“You don’t feel that you’re reaching?”

“I don’t. I don’t think we can trust that the research would be done with purely good intentions. It’s the duty of the person or persons in possession of these materials to dispose of them.”

The anchor shook her head, “Thank you Professor Jefferson.”

The fear the professor expressed was reflected all over the internet. While others defended research into how the crystal could preserve life and its potential to fight against cancer cells. Other guests on the news, and talk shows, and internet shows expressed the same fear about the conflict that would come from research into the crystal’s properties. The research became such a hot issue that other countries officially asked for recorded disposal of the materials.

Ricardo felt attacked. His name had never been mentioned anywhere, but it was his finding causing all of the insanity he had been reading about. The FBI had been in contact with Ricardo. Although a warrant had not been approved yet they had made clear their intentions to confiscate the vases and unused crystal due to the unknown properties they possessed. Ricardo offered them up. He led the team of five agents, one videotaping everything, into his workshop. Where all of the completed vases and unused crystal sat on shelves and his workbench. He had only sold the single vase. That being a decision he made almost impulsively. What magic, what mystery. He had to share it. Now he was only full of regret. He never should have sold the vase. The magic had turned to yelling across the entire internet, television, and governments. The FBI were in his sacred place. HIs workshop, where he spent his best time. Nothing but the calming energy of creating existed between these walls.

One agent opened a crate, another jammed the vases un. A third agent took the crystal from the bench. It slipped from his hands and fell on the floor. Ricardo winced. He walked towards the crystal on the floor- “Back away please.” The agent picked it back up and put it in the crate as well. They made sure all of the vases and crystal had been collected, and left.

A month later a package arrived. Roger opened it. He read the note sitting on top.

Janet unlocked the front door and walked into the living room. She almost missed it. Whenever she looked at the table she was reminded of the whole ordeal. The FBI had also come to their house, to make sure they didn’t have any more vases. There on the table now was a tiny vase, holding only a few tulips. She picked it up. It looked just like the vase.

Clear.

Solid

Clear.

Solid.

“When the FBI picked up the crystal they dropped it, Ricardo kicked some broken pieces under his workbench. He glued them together and made that. You can barely tell.

Janet looked closer

“There isn’t any glue.”

“Yes there is.” Roger took the vase to point out the glue up the side and around the bottom. There was no glue.

“Sorcery.”