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'On morning before any of the rest of us are up, Mum hears a report on the radio that at 2 am tomorrow there will be a rare meteor shower. Over the course of the day, she mentions it aloud to no one in particular several times. I hear my sister explaining that she really needs her sleep because she has an essay due. My dad is hard of hearing, and today that seems to align neatly with these mentions—although I’m ‘not hearing’ it either. Finally, around bedtime, Mum corners me and asks me directly whether, if she comes and wakes me up at two, I’ll come out and walk up the nearby hill to look at the meteor shower with her. I sigh heavily and mutter that I suppose I don’t know what life is for if it isn’t for looking at magical meteor showers.' (Introduction)
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