Space Roe

In that everything he says makes perfect sense. But it is chipping away at her sensibility. That he turns his back, moves away, then returns in an arc. There was a moment where she could hear her thoughts squashed together in one constricted, sealed portion.

He rolls past her, his mass is pulling her in.

'I'm insulted that you think I should...'

'How dare you blame me for...'

She would try to talk to someone else, try to get some perspective - but he insisted that her orbit was only around him. She can only speak now through the semaphore scratches she makes on her skin. Maybe she can release these forces bubbling from some deep cavernous source.

Again Jupiter turns his back. Europa hears the distorted, white noise hiss of a billion jumbled arguments. She is falling apart - she expands and contracts according to his mood swings. She has nothing to say. Her tears fall through space - slivers of silver, with bolts of misinformation firing inside them.

The woman at NASA will think they look like a tiny fish; space roe. But we always think we see life in space - a face on Mars, a Man on the Moon.

More silver tears fledge from Europa and drop through the void. They head for Earth, the tangled message flickering green into darkness. Jupiter turns his back again.