“We’ve been out here all night.”
Whenever Sara complained, Cy felt a stabbing pain. “You can’t just make things happen.”
Sara fiddled with her hair, pulling her bangs down in front of her eyes and to her chin. “These are never going to grow out. If I had scissors, I’d just cut them off right now. To here.” Cy’s elbow collided with the telescope as he watched her, shifting the altitude a few degrees lower. “Anyway, I had better get going.”
Cy reached out toward her as she stood up, then withdrew his hand. You can’t just make things happen.
***
Title by: fred
Story by: Christopher Conklin
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