Mar 14, 2007 16:45
On my return from the Moon I looked in Ann Arbor for the woman who'd seen me off when I had started. I found her at the bar we used to frequent, nursing her staple gin-and-tonic while looking morosely at the grain of the stained-wood bar-top. I poked her in the side, gave her a hug and said, "I'm sorry, I've been gone awhile." She breathed in, and replied to no-one else but me, "I've seen your treads a'glowin', won't you take me to your special place too? I missed you much."
I didn't know what place she was talking about, but no-one else but her would have known if I was there - at one of those special places she knew I spent time at. I thought about it for half-a-second, looked around for my peace of mind and gave her a little plastic pouch and told her, "Be careful, I've found it long and lonely even when I traveled in a pair."
I figured she would have treasure for company, and I'm sure she has since learned of the infamy associated with piloting strange and dangerous vehicles. I hope she didn't hold a grudge against me for the insufficiency of my half-hearted warning.
My sparks were extinguished a long time ago, but I get the feeling that she will still be a while; I can still see the sparks blazing from her ship when I look up at the night sky.