A green glass bottle sat on a rusted metal shelf, covered in dust and grime in the corner of a dusty room filled with the detritus of a forgotten time. Dust covered the bottle and its glass stopper. Its label peeling, faded and unreadable, and yet something dark lurked within the bottle’s blue green depths. Honeyed poison?
witch’s spell?
vampire’s blood?
The essence of evil?
the tears of an angel?
Plague?
life?
the whisper of death?
cry of despair?
A green glass bottle of time sitting lonely on a rusted shelf, all the potential hope and horror of Pandora’s gift.
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