1a: Poor KidMature

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"Poor kid." Crowley shook his head and took a seat next to Joy as he gazed back at Angus, a lump of blankets, an empty tin container hanging off his hand. "Never had a chance." A smile soon took place of his frown though, "None of us really did, though, huh?"

Joy looked at Crowley with compassion, but merely nodded. It was no time of day for conversation in her head. She thought of Crowley as a strange one. He was either completely serious about something, with his full heart into it, or he was laughing at the funny side of a situation, he never acted on both. When you have years to spend with the same people, you take down their habits, conscious or not. They both started blankly into the darkness, the complete emptiness of sound only broken by the sip of their drinks and the squeaking of their recliners. They said space was planet after planet. Amazing views and skies torn by fantastic colors. Those people never talked about the in-between.

Joy gazed over at the old man, who was deep in contemplation. 'Even if they took everything else from us,' she thought, 'they can't take our thoughts.'

"How far away are we from the next Sol?" the word Sol was dragged out, tired or drunk, a little of both, she decided.

Crowley just laughed, a guttural, hoarse laugh, as if his breath broke into spurts.

 "Lady," he started. Crowley always had a habit of calling Joy either lady, ma’am, little lady or darling, never her name. She didn't think much of it, from the way he talks, she just assumed he would do the same to all women. "We left the last one about eight months ago, and I've had it on auto-pilot since then." He coughed harshly then stood up, leaning over the nearly invisible glass screen in front of them. "Let me see here," the four words came out as one long word and Joy could tell Crowley was getting through his third glass of alcohol. "Our next Sol is about," he paused as his fingers moved some numbers across a translucent screen, "three months, Sol 140k, planet sigma-ax, according to the database." He quickly turned the screen off and seated himself once more, a loud burp escaping his mouth as he did so. "Quite a while, I reckon." Joy again said nothing to him, walked off down the nearby flight of stairs into her quarters and put on a drama she'd seen forty times.

"I wonder what I said to piss her off." Crowley spoke to himself and sat and drank in darkness.

Total absolution.

The End

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