Back story for Lucky Us, which won’t be updated for a while due to schoolwork I can’t seem to get right.
When she thinks of him, she thinks of space.
Outer space. Solar systems. Galaxies. Asteroids.
A vast expanse of nothing that, to the naked eye, appears full.
It’s the sunlight she likes best.
She throws her arms out and spins, one full rotation. The apartment whirls past her: stainless steel kitchen, exposed brick wall, abstract art prints, a canvas set up on a tarp, television, tangerine sofa.
But it’s the sunlight that leaves its impression. It’s the sun that gives life.