Sophie didn’t like trains, or when the ground moved too fast. She wanted to watch the sky. Wherever she went, the sky was always the same. It was reliable, dependable, comforting. The same blue expanse, the same stars circling above in the same pattern, year after year. Sophie would lie on her back and look upwards, imagining that the sky was touching her skin, that the sky was all around her, and that she’d never have to touch the earth again.

The sky was her home.


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