You didn't warn me.

I realized, the moment we into the fissure, that our s would not be destroyed as we had planned. They continued falling into that starry expanse, of which we had only a fleeting glimpse. I have tried to speculate where they might have landed—I must admit, however, such conjecture is futile. Still, the question of whose hands might one day hold our s is unsettling to me. I know my apprehensions might never be allayed, and so I close, realizing that perhaps the bottoms of our backgrounds have not yet been drawn.