An Apartment in Two Bridges, New York City, Sunday

There had been a lot of things Atton had been thinking about lately. He’d come home last night with his head spinning, thinking about Prom, and conversations had on Prom, and– no, not that conversation, which had apparently had network effects elsewhere, but the other one. The one about what he was supposed to do now, about New York, about the careful division of worlds he’d erected for himself that was now threatening to come tumbling down.

( I understand your desire to leave our galaxy behind... )

[[ open for phone calls et al if you want to catch him on the way out. ]]