cygnus belt, 1991
Buildings above the leafless trees
Loom high as castles in a dream,
While one by one the lamps come out
To thread the twilight with a gleam.
There is no sign of leaf or bud,
A hush is over everything--
Silent as women wait for love,
The world is waiting for the spring.
She sat in the park, in the middle of the night, staring up at the stars.
By herself. Sometimes, even Trillian needed those sorts of moments - moments of introspection, even for the most social people, have always been important. And something about the Cygni, and just the way that the suns reflected, and the snow made its imprints, falling around places where the geysers rose, it was beautiful.
Trillian Astra, reporter, in her head, was silent, and Trillian-once-Tricia, the dreamer, sat.
Sat, and watched, and thought, and missed, there was so much that she missed. She missed Random, most of all, and she missed Arthur. And she missed Zaphod and Ford, and she missed Thor and Marvin and Eddie, and she even missed Wowbagger and Agrajag, she missed Fenchurch - and she remembered things.
Thinking, Trillian began to remember who she missed. Indeed, Random and Arthur, Zaphod and Ford and Thor and Marvin and Eddie and Fenchurch ... and she missed Nita, and Harper, Val, Luke, Michael and Max, and Isabel. Thinking, Trillian missed Anthy, and Oats, and Faith, and Sharpe. And, well, she still missed Jasin, a bit.
She looked off into the sky, at the stars, through the Cygni clouds, and onward.
There was a war on, Trillian realized, and she'd need to write about it.
Once that was over, though?
Trillian pulled out a small communicator.
"Yeah, Eri? Yes, I'd like two tickets to Lamuella - for me and for Random. We're going to see Arthur Dent."
Loom high as castles in a dream,
While one by one the lamps come out
To thread the twilight with a gleam.
There is no sign of leaf or bud,
A hush is over everything--
Silent as women wait for love,
The world is waiting for the spring.
- - Sarah Teasdale
She sat in the park, in the middle of the night, staring up at the stars.
By herself. Sometimes, even Trillian needed those sorts of moments - moments of introspection, even for the most social people, have always been important. And something about the Cygni, and just the way that the suns reflected, and the snow made its imprints, falling around places where the geysers rose, it was beautiful.
Trillian Astra, reporter, in her head, was silent, and Trillian-once-Tricia, the dreamer, sat.
Sat, and watched, and thought, and missed, there was so much that she missed. She missed Random, most of all, and she missed Arthur. And she missed Zaphod and Ford, and she missed Thor and Marvin and Eddie, and she even missed Wowbagger and Agrajag, she missed Fenchurch - and she remembered things.
Thinking, Trillian began to remember who she missed. Indeed, Random and Arthur, Zaphod and Ford and Thor and Marvin and Eddie and Fenchurch ... and she missed Nita, and Harper, Val, Luke, Michael and Max, and Isabel. Thinking, Trillian missed Anthy, and Oats, and Faith, and Sharpe. And, well, she still missed Jasin, a bit.
She looked off into the sky, at the stars, through the Cygni clouds, and onward.
There was a war on, Trillian realized, and she'd need to write about it.
Once that was over, though?
Trillian pulled out a small communicator.
"Yeah, Eri? Yes, I'd like two tickets to Lamuella - for me and for Random. We're going to see Arthur Dent."