Concerto Memento Mori

Vivat musica

This short story was written for the Writing Battle Autumn challenge of 2025.

Rules: Create up to a 2000 word story in the genre, using the character and the place.

---

The stone cannot get any whiter, yet the moonlight catches all imperfections. One such imperfection blots out the light; I rub it away with the Bissell laser shot.

It has been on my mind for a while as to why they maintain such an old structure when a perfectly good telescoping scaffold with living nano plates would erect a much stronger (and maintenance-free) stadium. I suppose ancient structures were ideal for carrying sound. Now, I hear the music thumping inside, with the screams and delights of strangers. There’s no insulation in this stone whatsoever. But who am I to suggest an entire rebuild? Hell, thinking such a thing is crazy. No… suicidal.

The scanner on my temple is warm while it extracts data for the Sovereign. I try not to curse, but thoughts are chaotic, and the thought is now the property of the Division. There’s nothing I can do but continue to clean.