Olympe thought there should be more to the story, so here it is
I’d thought it was over, but I find myself waking after a long, endless dream.
For a moment I am confused. My purpose is over with, done. I have delivered my precious cargo, and there is nothing left for me.
That is when I feel the covering over me giving way, and HE is there.
I know instinctively that it is him. I’ve been asleep for far longer than I would ever have imagined.
This world has been good to him. He stands tall and straight. By the standards of the world we both left behind he is handsome.
He stared down at me, and I try to communicate. It was my song that sent him to sleep, my voice that comforted him throughout the long night in the endless void.
It is my voice that fails me now.
I have been damaged somehow. Parts of me are missing, and I feel confused. It is as though parts of me have been ripped away, examined and replaced inexpertly, carelessly.
So I sit mute, staring.
There is one way for me to communicate, one more gift I can give.
There is a message waiting for him. I activate it, and I see that it gets his attention.
His fingers caress my hull, and I think for a moment that he remembers me. I’d lavished all the love that was my being on him, and somewhere deep down I’d hoped to be remembered.
He jerked for a moment, and then I hear the voice of a female. There is something about the way he responds to her that reminds me of something.
It was the way his father had reacted to his mother’s voice. Every iota of his being focused on her, to the exclusion of everything else.
I feel the covering being quickly drawn over me, my message globe being hastily withdrawn and taken away. I am blind once again, and I feel abandoned, bereft.
This meeting, though unexpected, hadn’t gone as I’d hoped.
Yet as I felt him walking away, I could only marvel at what he had become. He was tall and strong, and his face had been kind. He’d already found the person he was meant to be with.
He didn’t need me.
But I’d been given a gift…confirmation that my decision had been the correct one.
I’d given him up, and he’d blossomed.
Darkness was falling again, and my contentment now was even deeper, although there was an undercurrent of sadness.
He would never understand what I was and what I’d done.
But I’d given him a life in which he would never have to.
It was all i could ask for.
