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what season is space? the child asks
her father. is it winter?
her fingers walk the borders of the porthole.
no, he says sharply —
he softens. it can’t be. with so
many suns — it must be spring.
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what season is space? the child asks
her father. is it winter?
her fingers walk the borders of the porthole.
no, he says sharply —
he softens. it can’t be. with so
many suns — it must be spring.