The goodbye experience was perfect. That was the problem.
Clara sat in the simulated planetarium and looked up at a ceiling that was more real than any ceiling she had ever seen in the waking world — stars arranged in constellations she had loved as a child, each one labeled in the handwriting of her deceased mother, each one accompanied by a short note that her mother had written on postcards and that Clara had kept in a shoebox under her bed for...
0 Comments 0 Shares 4 Views 0 Reviews