[ 9-ch ]

Don't worry over what other people are thinking about you.
They're too busy worrying over what you are thinking about them.

I am watching the stars. Halley's Comet tumbles through the solar system on it's great, seventy-six year eclipse. My father admired the sky for it's precision. He repaired watches. It's 1945, I sit in a Brooklyn kitchen, fascinated by an arrangement of cogs on black velvet. I am sixteen years old. It is 1985. I am on Mars. I am fifty-six years old. The photograph lies at my feet; falls from my fingers, is in my hand. I am watching the stars, admiring their complex trajectories through space and time. I am trying to give a name to the force that set them in motion...