Chapter 47
“It doesn’t bother me, I’m not mad about that stuff, but my father is really into it, he says that we should celebrate, that there should be a global celebration or something; he says it’s a homecoming, like that prodigal son story. Hey, I heard the Russians were going to send a rocket up there, is that true?”
She was a slender girl, long dark hair, the bluntest of fringes, her pallor blue as she stood before the proffered microphone within the screen of the television, an occasional sideways glance at her friends who stood a short distance behind her, eager to be involved, yet remarkably more cautious.
“Am I excited?” she asked, eyes widening, her hand on her chest, fingers splayed. She smiled, laughed nervously. “No, not really. Well, maybe a little.”
The camera held he
