One day while Paramour and I were sailing between galaxies, just relaxing and staring up at the starry sky, we happened across the remains of Earth. Our home planet had been flung out into the far reaches of space, and as it hurtled by us, I took the Paramour down into what remained of its atmosphere to see what it looked like now.
The oceans had dried up; the land masses were littered with mountains and mountains of trash. Nothing had survived; everything was grey and formless, ruins without memory. War vehicles were strewn across the land, while giant, gaping crevasses marked where humanity had dug for resources and renewable geothermal energy. Lastly, there were ports and launch pads where it looked like humanity had pooled the last of their resources and left, abandoning their planet as the Sun went nova. Now empty and lifeless, the planet was colorless and quiet, ruined and used up.
I was about to leave, but as I sailed through the noxious skies, I could hear strains of music drifting up from the surface. Curious, I took the Paramour down to an indistinct patch of ground on the surface. There, standing in a court of twelve carved angels, was a kid in black jeans, a soft grey hoodee, and travel-worn sneakers. It turned out that his name was Moth, and he was one of twelve angels created to protect the virtues of humanity. He was so sad and all alone, because he was the last of the Court of Angels; the other angels had faded, leaving him all alone.
I anchored the Paramour and got out, with Paramour sitting on my shoulder. He and I sat and talked with the angel for a few decades, and I wrote down the story of Moth, the last of the Court of Angels. When it was finally done, I didn’t want to leave him there on his own with no hope, so I as I was leaving, I went down into the library and grabbed a flowerpot filled with dandelion and clover. As the Paramour began to drift away, I threw the flowerpot to him, shouting that hope springs eternal. The Paramour continued to drift away, but as we left, I saw him smile, and beside him, a faint form begin to shimmer into existence, as if something that had faded was coming back.
"Hope Springs Eternal. . ."