“When I open the door, I face the drooping sun. The light in my face is bright, not warm.”

“He jumps, flashing the phones a shaka sign as he soars.”

“…it seemed the farther they traveled from home, the closer they were to those stars.”

“I’d hear this man’s footsteps above me when in bed, trying to trap the sound of his feet with my eyes…”

“…I can see it’s a black, shrunken stick about ten feet high, stripped of the bark I once ran my fingers over.”

“I remember the sun was high in the sky and the clearing held a holy quiet, like no human feet had ever marred its face. So, of course I followed.”