Swings and rocket ships @ Bare Fiction

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Issue 8 // 2016

They call me Grace from space. Mum says my head is somewhere between Neptune and Pluto, like the cartoon dog. My sister loved dogs. We used to sit on swings and jet off into space. We’d push out our legs and snap them back, launching into the sky. On the up, we’d see the moon. Next: Mars. Sometimes Silly Lily would sit backwards to catch the sun and Venus. But most times we’d try to go all the way round, seeing where it might take us. But we never got over the bar. Then one day, just after our eighth birthday, she did it. Lily went full circle. Alone.

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