Those
three words, I say to her as I pour another glass of Rigelian wine.
Love
you, too, she coos. An impish grin flickers across her fluorescent face.
I
quickly refill my glass and snuggle back down beside my love as we wrap our seven free limbs around each other in tender embrace.
The holofire crackles in front of us. After all these aeons were still caught up in the romance.
Perfect climax to a perfect century of celebration,
I murmur in her ear.
She
takes in a deep breath and sighs out a 'yes' that causes my four hearts to beat in syncopation. The Aurilian bouquet we brought
back from our afternoon picnic must be releasing its aphrodisiacal magic. I’m in love with the universe.
I
love this planet, I say. The Milky Way is in a spectacular rotation. We should buy this solar system and live here
forever.
You
say that every millennium when we vacation here, my wife teases.
And you’d think after fifty of them I’d
finally convince you, I smile.
