The aurora burned green and purple across the sky, and Erik Johansson watched it from the doorway of his shelter and felt something he had not felt in months.
Not happiness. Not sadness. Something in between — a quiet recognition, like a man looking at a photograph of himself from ten years ago and realizing that the person in the picture was both familiar and entirely foreign. He closed the shelter door and sat down at his table. On the table was his father's empty box — the cardboard container that had held the astronomical telescope he had sold...
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