Sometimes he caresses the milky wave with his breath and, as he does, he breathes movement into his hands. Reaching forth into the heavens, he thinks it’s time to gather that star for Georgia… No! A handful of stars. Then, stepping back into the void he gently throws them forth to where they want to land or where they need to land. There appears a twinkle in his eyes at his and Georgia’s creation… triumphantly satisfied with their forever… in this their timely moment. He whispers “thank you” to God and, “Thank Georgia, for my brimming saucerful that is our tomorrow in time… our brimming saucerful of stars!”