NARRATOR
Margaret sat in Samuel's chair
Behind an empty desk
Watching and waiting
For the man who wrote about the moon
An eloquent aristocrat
Her stature statuesque
Wealthy and wondering
Why, when she read his story, she was moved
It was peculiar
That sensation
She wanted more

MARGARET
Mister Stratford?

SAMUEL
Call me Samuel. I've seen you before, you're-

MARGARET
Margaret Cavendish

SAMUEL
Yes, I've read about you in the papers. Our paper

MARGARET
I was told you werе the one
Who had access to Hеrschel’s journal
SAMUEL
Yes, me and my sister, Rose. It’s really very exciting

MARGARET
I would like to see it
I would like to read it
I would like to know how it ends
Tell me how it ends

SAMUEL
… I'm sorry, Miss Cavendish, I cannot show you the journal

MARGARET
I won't tell a soul
I just want to know
Where this journey goes
You'd be compensated

SAMUEL
That's extremely generous of you, but the Sun will have exclusive rights to the stories moving foreward-

MARGARET
“The stories.”

SAMUEL
The journal entries. I assure you, they're real-
MARGARET
I believe you, Samuel
I believe
I read your words this morning
It made me feel something I had not felt in years
Maybe ever
Perhaps in another life
A whisper in a daydream
A melody that lingers
A face that you recognize
On a person you've just met
The journal you possess
Has answers to the questions
The world was scared to ask
Are we alone?
Just children wandering the firmament
Throwing stones?
Are we unique in this galaxy
We call home?
So many people have nothing to believe in
Do we need something to believe in?
Or simply faith that out there
There is something to believe?
Is that enough?
I don’t know you, Samuel
I don’t know, but I believe
And belief is priceless
I hope to see you again soon, Mr. Stratford
SAMUEL
You'll know where to find me