Kaleidoscope Ray Bradbury ~repack~ Link

“That’s not real,” Hollister said.

And for one incandescent moment, he became a shard of light in a billion turning pieces—falling not into death, but into the endless, hungry, beautiful kaleidoscope of being remembered. kaleidoscope ray bradbury

“I see my son,” said another voice. Les. The youngest. His tether had snapped an hour ago, and now he was cartwheeling toward the sun. “He’s six. He’s building a rocket out of cardboard. I’m inside it. We’re laughing.” “That’s not real,” Hollister said

Hollister tumbled alone, his suit’s radio a graveyard of whispers. “That’s not real

Silence. Then a crackle. A voice so faint it might have been starlight corroding.

But Hollister looked.