A siren wailed. Beneath them the ground groaned. Jane sat still, holding onto the small table between them. Jam knew; Jane knew now that Jam knew this time would come.

Jam was once again torn in two, wanting to take her back into himself, wanting to spare her what time had been building together with space in the the black star-dotted universe in which they all hung suspended.

The hammocks were swinging, the threat was real.

Jam and Jane stared at each other, stared at themself.