He stared at the keys in dismay. For a time, Roger could hardly move, for fear that movement would serve to make it all real. It couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t take the kind of world where this was allowed to happen. It was all gone. Everything. His masterpiece was no more. And the infernal machine was to blame.
Finally, he lifted his gaze.
The window was right there, offering a ten story drop to the rocky beach…
The next thing Roger knew, the window was standing open and the infernal machine was nothing but a speck vanishing in the distance as it flew and fell into the waves.
The cleansing surf washed away what little was left.
And it carried with it his anger, his rage, his emotions.
It was an age old problem. They kept breaking. It was long past time to find a proper solution and prevent this from happening.
But I won’t be the one to solve it.
By all rights I should be. My people have been in the business as long as anyone can remember. It is our livelihood. We all believed that one day one of our descendents would solve it. That may well still be true, but I know now that it won’t be me.
I am in love. That isn’t a complete shock, I’m sure. But my love is not approved. In fact, some will call me traitor for my love. For the fact that I cannot raise a hand to against her people any longer. And solving this problem, it would most certainly be an act against her people.
So I will not solve it. I am adrift, a castaway, broken by my unrequited love.