Now that no one is watching, I bow my head and allow myself to weep. Weep for my life, for all those who’ve killed or died because of the war, and for the uncertain future of the world. When I’ve cried myself out, I lie down on the cool floor of the balcony and stare at the stars. I make out the Pleiades, a constellation my mother taught me years ago. Make a wish upon the seven sisters, she’d whisper to me when we’d catch sight of them. And I do so now. I wish I could be up there with you. I gaze at them until my eyes drift closed.
