Serial Library passage Aug 26

The kids are in the dirt at the bottom of the driveway. “Watch this,” one of them says. The astrolabe is still in my hands. I hold it behind my back and push my face into the sparkling wishes falling out of the sky in front of me. The air around me sparkles like a lake in sunshine. The air splashes me like cold water. The kids are buried in their coats, heads hooded, hands muffed. They look pink, and cute.