Ray was cold. He’d forgotten what space felt like. It’s a different sort of cold up there. It flies with you. Down on earth the temperature of the air changes, and cold breezes might cut across a warm air channel and make you shudder for a bit, but up in the inky blackness of the great silver ocean of the stars, the cold attaches itself to you and holds on tightly. It stays at a constant temperature of ‘Brass Monkeys Force 10’. Ray felt isolated at first, and vulnerable. The angels flew wherever they wanted to, and he was surprised that he had not been challenged or advised to disappear quickly – or else.
Away to his left, the Sun continued to burn in on itself, insatiable and ever-changing. Occasionally, as if in spite, it spat incredible flumes of fire at anyone who invaded its personal
