7
" Our faces turned upwards, together we scanned the heavens, finding them stacked with tiers of bright stars.
Remarked to Whittier: It almost seems that each star is a hole, through which we might vanish into other dark heavens.
Whittier remained silent. Whole night seemed to wait for his response, and while I also waited, was taken with a sudden suspicion that our blue sky, that seems so solid during the day, might be in fact riddled with piercings, and rendered therefore exceeding fragile. As if the great dome above us might be nothing more than a swathe of soft linen, billowing up with the wind. "
― Louisa Hall , Speak