diopucci week - gravity

The sky is so black out here. While the others monitor the flight and talk to Houston, Pucci simply looks out at the stars around them. There are millions of them, billions of them, shining bright without the atmosphere to drown their light. These little memorials to long-dead suns go on shining, bright and beautiful, unconcerned with the knowledge that the places that gave birth to them are dead. 

They call to him. They always have. 

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