Marra’s POV:-
‘Where did they take him, Marco-Polo?’
I look at Es, my eyes stinging. ‘Somewhere very far away,' I reply.
‘Did they make him the sun?’ she asks.
‘Er, no. No, Es. When people die, they . . . uhm . . .’
‘I thought Lakoswa-boggle-gobble-whatchamacallit didn’t have a sun,' she says, interrupting me.
‘Yeah, no, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t.’
‘Then what’s that? Looks like Rasthrum to me.’
I look up at the sky and get blinded by an awfully bright glare. There is indeed a sun dangling in the sky up above, like a melting bronze medallion. It does look a bit like Rasthrum.
‘What were you saying, Marruko? About when people die?’
I smile with my eyes still stinging. ‘When people die . . . they turn into stars. And Rasthrum . . . he became the brightest, hottest star ever.’
You're a star for reading this too ✨
Not really, but I do love you for sticking around.
YOU ARE READING
Sort of Deadly
Humor*Sequel to 'Sort Of Dead'* *Kindly read the previous installment beforehand* ~ "You know the feeling when you see a glass jar filled with perfectly round, colorful marbles, and you just want to put one - or two, or three - in your mouth, even though...
