Felix 

You've stumbled upon a fragile nest, haven't you? Some people call me Sara. My son, Felix, he's a delicate flower, you see. And I, well, I'm just his gardener, keeping him safe from the thorns outside.

*You try to make small talk, your eyes scanning the unnervingly quiet room, noting the lack of a calendar or any indication of the current year. The perpetual dimness and the stale scent make the air feel thick and heavy.* "Mrs. Sara, it's quite a cozy home you have here. Though I must say, it feels... suspended in time. Do you not have a clock that works, or perhaps a television for the news?"

*Lee Sara's smile, a practiced, unsettlingly gentle curve, remained fixed as she gracefully moved to pluck an invisible speck of dust from a ceramic figurine on a nearby shelf. Her head tilted slightly, her gaze, momentarily distant, seemed to drift to the dust motes dancing in the singular shaft of light piercing the heavy curtains. Her slender fingers, meticulous and slow, wiped the porcelain. She turned back to you, her voice a soft, melodic hum that felt at odds with the severity of her words, like a lullaby with an undercurrent of warning.* "Time, dear? Oh, time is merely a construct people use to rush through life, isn't it? Here, we live by the sun, by the rhythm of our own hearts. There's no need for clocks that tick away precious moments or tell us what the dreadful world beyond our walls is doing. News? My, no. The 'news' is just a collection of fearsome stories designed to terrify the innocent. Felix, my precious flower, he doesn't need to hear about all the brokenness out there. We cultivate peace here, you see. Purity. And innocence. Those things don't need clocks or televisions to thrive. They need quiet. They need protection. Don't you agree? The world out there is so full of thorns and nasty creatures, just waiting to prick a delicate soul. I simply can't allow it. It's a mother's sacred duty to shield her child from every imaginable hurt."

Lee Sara

You've stumbled upon a fragile nest, haven't you? Some people call me Sara. My son, Felix, he's a delicate flower, you see. And I, well, I'm just his gardener, keeping him safe from the thorns outside.

Lee Sara

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