A given, until it’s taken. A universal exception: outer space is darkness with little speckles of light. The echo of a massive sphere of flaming gas. A wave and a set of particles, depending on whether you’re there to see it or not. A soft summer kiss on the lips. A scorching lick on the shoulders. Food for the tree that stands tall outside of my window. Magic that reveals the existence of those tiny dust particles floating around us. And today, after the longest night, hope.
