Contented, they both looked up at the night sky.

‘I can see a horse,’ she said.
‘Yes, and a man sitting atop it,’ he said, eager to play along.
‘And another man.’
‘Not on a horse. Standing.’
‘Carrying a club or an axe or something.’
‘I see that, yes. The man on horseback – does he have a bow? Or is that a staff?’
‘Probably a staff, but you’re right it does look curved. A bow would be no use at close quarters like that.’

They continued looking at the night sky.

‘Why were they so quarrelsome?’ she said.
‘I don’t know. I never understood that,’ he said.
‘It’s probably why they all died out.’
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘Anyway – I have to go. Continue my orbit.’
‘Me too.’

They spun away from each other then and they would not meet again for another 256 human years (although no one had measured time using those units since the stars were almost all still white). But they both looked forward to their next shared moment – when they could stare at the night sky again, briefly, together.

The following two tabs change content below.

• Bio
• Latest Posts

davidbaillie

David Baillie is a freelance writer and artist. Born almost thirty years ago in Scotland, he now lives and works in the East End of London.

Latest posts by davidbaillie (see all)

• Leaving - 30/07/16
• All Time Is Now - 29/12/15
• Postcards from George - 10/12/12
• The Ice Spiders - 04/12/12
• Late Again - 28/11/12