201st Entry

June 1st, 2037

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Dear Earth Diary.

So here I am about to try astronomy lately.

Astronomy is apparently a fine art that requires skill, knowledge, devotion, and highly specialised equipment.

What I have is a window. It’s a nice window I guess.

I really don’t know why I’m doing this, but if I’ve learned one thing in the last 5 months, it’s to trust Mary. Or she’ll hurt you.

Corridor is quiet, I think the night shift just fell asleep. Clear sky, too. So I guess I should start.

Hmm. Well, there’s stars. A lot of stars.

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This concludes Amateur Astronomy.

I really don’t’ know what I’m looking for. There are stars. I’ve been up there and well… now I’m down here. Stars.

I wish she would stop being so cryptic and just tell me what it is I should be looking for.

“Try counting them.”

There’s like a million of them!

“A million and one now.”

Wait, what do you mean? And also, Mary?

“Yes?”

What are you doing outside my cell?

“Telling you about the extra star.”

Yes, but how are you here?

“I did a trade with the guards.”

What did you trade?

“You really don’t want to know.”

…Well not anymore, no.

“I don’t have long. There’s an extra star. Just above where Alpha Centauri would be.”

Ok, you know I don’t actually know where stars are, let alone where they would be? So there’s an extra star, what does that even mean?

“It means hope.”

Hope for what?

“I have to go. But we’re going to be fine. It’s all happening exactly how I thought it would.”

Wait, can I help? What do I need to do?

“Keep not being guilty.”

But I’m not guilty.

“Excellent. Don’t start.”

But, why? Mary, what’s going on?

“We’re getting out of here, we just need more time. Keep forcing them to draw out this trial, and hope.”

Hope what?

“Hope that I’m a good shot.”

Ok. Um.

“What?”

I don’t know if this is the best time to say it, but…

“Yes?”

Well, we’ve been through a lot together and…

“…Yes?”

You’re a lousy shot, Mary.

“…Like I said. Hope.”

0901

“How do you –“

Not guilty.

“…do?”

I’m not guilty.

“Well I’m your lawyer, so that’s convenient.”

I thought I wasn’t getting a lawyer?

“Oh they have to provide one. It’s a law. They can’t change those yet. Much.”

Who is they?

“They are a metaphor. So let’s talk. What are you hoping to get out of this trial?”

Freedom.

“Ha! Nice to have a sense of humour. No seriously.”

…Freedom?

“But you’re guilty. Clearly. You did all those things and you’re going to jail.”

Are you sure you’re my lawyer?

“Oh yes. But I didn’t say I’d been hired to get you off.”

But they have to provide me with a lawyer?

“And they have. But they don’t necessarily have to provide you with a good one.”

You’re not good?

“Oh I’m the worst.”