The Observatory

Not astronomy, phantoms. Click a star.

The last conversation I had with my father.
The summer I learned to swim, alone, before anyone noticed.
The house that smelled of apples, even in the rooms with no fruit in them.
A song I only remember the middle of.
The dog waiting at the window, long after there was any reason to.
Standing in the snow, not yet called inside.
The name of someone I promised never to forget.

The stars multiply (not so) slowly. If you have one —

leave it here
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