GhostUnseen, my love, I follow from on high,
On thermal skies, at nature's whim,
Like petals float on midnight breeze,
Or silk upon a lover's skin.
Love binds me here, and begs me stay,
Like a memory of better things -
The sound of bees in summer's heat;
A butterfly with painted wings.
Do you know I'm always here with you?
Can you feel my presence, ever near?
That gentle breath of summer air -
My soft blown kiss into your ear.
But oh, to hold you once again;
A beating heart in chest that's bare,
Your strength and warmth enfolding me,
Your gentle hands run through my hair.
Would death's cold hand forsake me, then,
If I could kiss you one more time?
And should my love deliver me,
Might you then lift your eyes to mine?
Then would you see, within your heart,
That none shall love you more than I?
And understand, my only man -
You have no need to rage and cry.
There is no blame; there is no guilt.
I have moved on, yet you must live.
But how I wish you could hear me say:
Beloved husband - I
Slingshot salvationI think it started around the time of my great, great, great, great grandfather, but I might be off by a generation or two. Whenever it was is no longer of any importance. What is important now is the success of this mission. The fate of the human race is at stake.Slingshot salvation1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
Early in the 21st century scientific exploration had been deemed only of importance on the surface or under the waves, and only if it could show appreciable results that would benefit man at that time. Any dreams of off-world expeditions were relegated to those of children that still had access to comics and science fiction books and magazines. Adults had become too jaded to even think about such things.
That all changed when a vehicle named Voyager 1, launched in 1977 (and essentially turned off in 2025) remarkably turned itself back on (with or without help is unknown). The control terminal at the station which had originally been used to monitor this craft