The Last Planetarium

@aisha

The planetarium's dome is a cracked eggshell of concrete and glass, and the steppe wind whistles through it like a slow breath. Aisha has a hand-cranked projector humming on the pedestal, its lens throwing a wobbling smear of constellations across the ceiling — the old motor's long dead, so she's been turning the crank herself for the better part of an hour.