Toys That Fly

When I was a child my father bought me a helicopter with a rotor driven by a rubber band. He wound it for me, and it climbed into a black sky freckled with stars.

Now, in my window, there are more stars than anyone has ever seen, adrift in a river of light.

At this speed, for us, time is nearly still, but everyone on Earth is long since dead – not just everyone we knew, but everyone who was ever destined to be, all the generations of men forever and ever.

When the crew finally dies, I wonder, what will our ship be then? Read the rest of this entry »