Mar 17, 2018
— rough hands gripped his shoulders and chin, forcing him to look skyward at the nighttime painted with a dusty palette of bruised blues and blacks. “Look again at the sky,” his breath smelt like decay against his nose and Adlan wanted to throw up, “what’s out there, that’s home, that’s us. On and around it is everyone you love, everyone who loved you, everyone who could ever love. Who has or hasn’t isn’t the question, but who can or does is. Every living person with a soul in the history of our species lived there on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam, and you really want to end that?”