The furled petal-lines of the rose-bud blur, as I twirl it between my fingers, pretending I’m spinning a universe into being.

I could try and explain to her what I learned up there, about why I can’t face the stars again, but I’ve tried to explain lesser things and failed. Words don’t seem to mean the same thing to someone who’s never been off-world, as they mean to me.

I look out at the stars and smile. I think that maybe this private booth in the horrendously overpriced restaurant hanging off the Mars Orbital Colony might just be mankind’s crowning achievement.

The fire dipped and the room was dark and still while Jemmy drew breath.

I don’t write fairy-tales often, but this presented itself to me and demanded to be made. It is and it isn’t about what you think it is about, and it is and it isn’t for you, from me, with all the love in the world.

No-one saw the first ones coming. It was only in my neighbourhood, in a quiet country, whose name I’m sure you’ve heard, but don’t think much about, that they arrived at all.