From her perspective, the apple was actually quite close to being a perfect circle. Though as she kept looking at it, she noticed the glistening collection of dawn’s dew tremble against the morning breeze.

It fell, and immediately the color changed.

Though there was no precipitating warning, hindsight would eventually tell her it was not something that one needed to be warned about. Was it not obvious? Things fell during the fall because according to the universe, “fallen” is a desired end state. So entropy declared.

Fall — falling — change. Her mind played around with the concept twice. Three things that were irrevocably intertwined. Switch up the order four times and the meaning was different but the underlying sentiment was not. Use all five conjugations.

Now she had thought of falling so much that the word itself seemed wrong. What if it was pronounced “falling” instead? Falling — falling — fa-lling. Alicia hated being judged whenever words refuse to sound how they looked or look how they sounded. Words were so curious. Incomprehensible babbling that humans ascribe meaning to. Though it made sense; if society insisted on giving “uhtceare” of all syllable combinations its own meaning then clearly sensibility was forfeit since antediluvian times. Oot-Key-Are-A, by the way.

A nagging voice in the head asked if falling and change weren’t the same thing, and the idea brought her mind back to the impending danger ahead. Color being just one thing where change was evident, but position — was spatial orientation not a bigger change, even if it may not be an attribute?

Does one normally associate the concept of position as an attribute? Alicia wasn’t entirely sure in the moment, but then did it truly matter? It was above her and the nature of gravity demanded that it try to be beneath her.

Danger, danger, danger, approaching at nearly 10 meters per second in the second it had to change its position attribute. Not dangerous per se, but danger nevertheless. Her eyes were wide open.

But oh, the color change, that color change. Yellow and orange now, to refract the leaves that she laid in. With a light blue creeping in, but Alicia almost wanted to shun it away. Blue had its time for so long. Give the other colors a chance. Not that it was up to her or anything, for physics was obstinate in getting its way and so would these colors.

Closer then, red became a fleck among yellow, blue, and orange, but thankfully no purple. At least this thing had the sense and sensibility to not allow colors to mix. Even green was beginning to show — but then again weeds are such sinfully prideful things, triumphantly declaring their presence whenever they had a chance regardless of invitation.

Up close, it was smoother than expected and for a brief moment, Alicia was convinced she saw her own reflection. Her hair eagerly declared its dark blackness only for it to be chased away by clear clarity.

The droplet came too close and she blinked too late. Sitting up, Alicia rubbed at her eye, blinking away the excess moisture.

It had only been a moment, but in that moment she had seen the world in the smallest of lens.