“What you’re seeing,” my father tells me, “Is light, thousands of years old.”
I follow his pointing finger, an inadvertent time traveller.
My mother’s voice retells dramas, connect-the-dot Greek tales of war and love.
I’m caught between worlds, in vacuum, nobody’s child.
——
For this week’s PanGalactic Gargleblaster prompt, “What’s so amazing that keeps us stargazing?”