my heart is a concert hall

As soon as the flowers touched the shrine, they grew vibrant and beautiful despite the dim and dusty lighting within the temple. Their scent ricocheted outwards, propelled by unseen breezes. For a second the flowers are almost...scanned. A strange light coming over them in piecemeal functionality. For an instant they glow electric blue, but give off no heat and then— —they are gone, and only the strange electrical scent of petrichor remains.