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At first I’m not sure what I’m looking at. It’s like reading a seemingly random collection
of words before the sentence becomes clear.
“It’s beautiful,” I say.
“It’s called an orrery.”
“This is what you’ve been doing up here? Making universes?”
He shrugs.
A small wind blows and the planets spin slowly. We both watch their motion without
speaking.
“Are you sure about this?” Doubt has crept back into his voice.
“Please help me, Olly. Please.” I point to the orrery. “I need to escape, too, just for a
little while.”
He nods. “Where do you want to go?”