They flew forever on parallel curves, on the inner edge of the space-time continuum, like two adjacent petals on a rose. They looked at each other through the sun-tinted windows, each sighing and smiling at the shadowy face of the other. They spoke, and though neither could hear the other, they each seemed to know what was said, at least partially. They somehow contrived to have children, who brought them joy and aggravation. They died, one right after the other, and neither ever realized that the other was not the one he or she had intended to love.