• Taylor Fox

Rocket Ship

He dreamed only of space. Celestial bodies wandered the deepest realms of his unconscious until he awoke seeing stars. As entire galaxies danced comets cascaded across the obsidian sky, wayward moondust searching for a rightful home. Though outside the feasible domain of human comprehension, and against the wishes of his God-fearing mother, he prayed to his stars each night. Send me a rocket ship, he’d murmur, so I can dance with the stars.

A cast-iron rocket smashed into his Gaza City window, hurling his eight-year-old body afar, shards of glass perforating his skin. He could finally dance with the stars.


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