"Pigs don't have karma." she said
while they were waiting for the light to turn from pink to red.
"They're just pigs."
He placed his hand on her thigh
in his usual way,
The universe was well-constructed
that particular day,
better than most she thought,
abstractedly.

After three consecutive lifetimes, the mother ship would land
near the Mojave.
It was time for the creators to return.

Nothing can save them from themselves,
even their DNA was a tragic loss; their history
convoluted by too many saviours and not enough
lovers, the creator's creators concluded. It was
yet to be determined if the experiment was a failure
in its success. Too many
thoughts had turned to things; eventually things turned
on themselves as if they were preordained.

He would miss the planet, but orders were orders,
nevertheless and it smelled like rain. He loved its details
on his borrowed skin.