On rare occasions, I would come across space travelers that were hopelessly drifting, their crafts damaged and their lives coming to an end. For a time, I would bring them aboard the Paramour and take care of them, writing down their stories as they told them to me. I always made sure they had a peaceful end, and when they died, I would put them back aboard their vessel and let them drift away into the void, lighting a candle for them when they had disappeared. Once done, I would take their story that I had written, and put it in the library belowdecks, in a special section where I kept such stories.
In between times and galaxies, I would take up the guitar and learn to play it, playing classics from memory. Paramour would sit up on the mast and listen while I played up on the bow end of the ship, strumming to the stars that passed us by. Those seemingly endless times when we simply sat and played music for years on end were both beautiful and regretful, mainly because they were such beautifully lonely times, and we couldn’t always have them.
Throughout the course of our journeys, Paramour and I would take a risk every now and then and do wild things, like swing by a black hole just to see if it was really black, or drop by supermassive stars about to go nova. Concerning black holes, Paramour posited the existence of white holes, the reverse of black holes - holes in space that spit out matter and energy instead of sucking it in. I told him this was ridiculous, but couldn’t help thinking about it myself.
When we could, we tracked down red supergiants and watch them go supernova. I would set up the camcorder and take pictures while the star exploded, and Paramour would simply watch, the light of exploding stars reflected in his deep eyes. The pictures we took were amazing, and I thought to myself that if I could sell these back home on earth, I’d make a fortune.
Just as the library of the Paramour was continuously expanding, the photo album I kept also grew. It had pictures of civilizations, of galaxies up close and seen from a distance, of beautiful clouds of ionized gas, of strange and inexplicable sights, planets in the far reaches of the universe, and so much more. The collection was just huge, but somehow all of it managed to fit into one photo album, the same way the Paramour’s limitless library managed to fit belowdecks.