Serial Library passage Aug 26

27 Aug

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.

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