Stargazing [Open]
Susan Foreman was lying on her back and staring up at the black evening sky. The garden was submerged in shadows. If her mind had been on Earth with the rest of her, Susan might have wondered who actually owned it, now that that version of Sarah Jane had gone. She might even have wondered where that version of Sarah Jane had gone.
But it wasn't, so she didn't. It was probably better that way.
The sky above her was wrong. All wrong. It was too dark. Not completely empty, of course, but there were still far too many missing planets, and a shocking number of absent stars. Planets and stars she'd known and loved and traveled across. Sometimes with her Grandfather and sometimes - in more recent years - on her own.
She remembered every one she'd visited, and tried to patch up the gaps in her knowledge by imagining the ones she hadn't. It was the least she could do. Remember. That way they'd never be completely gone.
Would she ever get the chance to see them? Would they be able to fix what had happened?
All she'd ever really wanted was a home. A place and time to call hers. She'd never wanted to travel, not like her Grandfather, but now - gazing up at all those empty spaces - Susan found herself wishing she had. It would have made remembering so much easier.
But it wasn't, so she didn't. It was probably better that way.
The sky above her was wrong. All wrong. It was too dark. Not completely empty, of course, but there were still far too many missing planets, and a shocking number of absent stars. Planets and stars she'd known and loved and traveled across. Sometimes with her Grandfather and sometimes - in more recent years - on her own.
She remembered every one she'd visited, and tried to patch up the gaps in her knowledge by imagining the ones she hadn't. It was the least she could do. Remember. That way they'd never be completely gone.
Would she ever get the chance to see them? Would they be able to fix what had happened?
All she'd ever really wanted was a home. A place and time to call hers. She'd never wanted to travel, not like her Grandfather, but now - gazing up at all those empty spaces - Susan found herself wishing she had. It would have made remembering so much easier.