Moyra and I-we slipped through the rain so quick that the star drops didn't touch either of us, water or light.
Kept running, but not from Highport. Come morning, we'd be back, same as always. I was a snark. Couldn't be one anywhere else.
Still ... couldn't, wouldn't get the image out of my mind. The proud and tall lady, beautiful, as all angels are, with the darkness of hell behind those green, green eyes. Standing on the transdeck, call it the dock to Heaven, a place she'd never see again, screen behind her showing stars falling around her... and not knowing that she'd already missed life.
Moyra and I had that.