We both jumped. A bright light seared the sky. My eyes flicked to her face in the illumination from the heavens. I drank in her beauty like a man dyin... of thirst in the desert. It was so bright and she was so close I could see the tiny pores in her skin. Her eyes were brown, and her pupils were huge from the last few hours of darkness. She wasn’t staring at me, she was still staring up, her mouth open. I turned my eyes upwards in time to see the last few milliseconds of the meteorite. My eyes. Smiling up at him from below, standing either end below the table, with one hand on hip in dominant poses, were Hope and Constance Templar; the strict severity of the former woman, contrasting but complimented by the plump spitefulness of the latter ... and what the canes in their free hands pointed down to, had those backward facing barbs in the device bite hard and hold his bell firm as it swelled with a masochistic promise. There for all the woman to see, were the two receptacles which had. More

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