After my brilliant friend Pyrrha wrote a wonderful epilog to “Objects in Space” I got jealous so I wrote one too. Please, read and review mine, than read and review hers.

“With Form and Matter, Time and Place did join; Body, thy foe, with these did leagues combine To spoil thy peaceful realm, and ruin all thy line;” Simon muttered as he stared up at the atrocious blob of color hanging over his head. Were those supposed to be dried flowers or fireworks or different types of stars really, really close together, or was it just blobs of pointless color meant to make the room feel warm and, well, colorful? “But turncoat Time assists the foe in vain, And bribed by thee, destroys their short lived reign,” Simon hesitated, he couldn’t quite remember the next line. “Something something something something ain.” He said, finishing the stanza.

“Don’ think that’s what comes next,” a soft, timid voice said from doorway between the common room and the cargo bay. Simon craned his head and saw Kaylee’s form poking around the doorframe, as if she were waiting for permission to come in.

“Kaylee,” he said, before sucking a breath between his teeth. Simon pulled himself up into a sitting position, with his injured leg stretched out in front of him on the couch. “How long have you been there?” His voice was thin with pain.

“Oh,” the girl said, not venturing in and flopping down on the couch like he expected her to. Rather, she stayed in the cargo bay, just a sliver of her visible as she leaned on the doorframe. “Since ‘Severed from thee, its sole original’.” She admitted. “I didn’ mean ta pry, I . . .” her voice trailed off as she glanced back into the darkness of the cargo bay. “I kin go an’ . . .”

“Kaylee,” Simon said again. He wanted walk over and meet her, catch her delicate chin in his hand, run his fingers through her soft brown hair, gaze into her seemingly-fathomless eyes, and ask very softly and very kindly what was troubling her. But all his leg would allow him to do was lean forward, and even