We walked outside the house to the back and stood in the yard and looked at the comet, Hale Bop in the clear evening sky. Just a faint sperm head of light set against the lustrous immensity of the stars, shedding particles of dust as old as the firmament itself. I pointed it out to you but you were’nt impressed. Had other things on your mind, I suppose. Like giving birth and all the changes you were going through for the sake of our first child. I felt useless and couldn’t connect with you. All I could offer was support. But out there in the melting distance locked into its ageless arc, that comet felt closer to me than you did. I raised my finger and traced its milky course, a burning penny caught in a groove; and down here on Earth, it seemed our movements had become so like that comet’s. Our paths had suddenly been propelled into a new direction, one that would be fixed forever and sanctioned by the same eternal force that must have first induced that ancient piece of rock. A smooth and weightless orbit around our unborn child.