Luma floats inside the big dome. A ringed planet glides past the window.
She presses her gloved hand to the glass. "Hello, rings," she whispers.
Luma pushes off the wall and drifts along the curve of windows. Stars sparkle like scattered sugar.
She swings her net at a shooting star. It zips away too fast. "Wait!" she calls.
She giggles as the star disappears. Then a swirling nebula fills the window—pinks and purples.
She points. "You look like cotton candy," she says. She imagines tasting it.
Suddenly a comet zooms past the window, glittering. Luma reaches out to wave hello.
The comet seems to pause. Then it winks. A gentle buzz travels through her glove.
"You see me!" she breathes. The comet zooms away into the dark.
Luma floats back to her seat. She smiles. Her helmet fogs slightly.
She watches the comet disappear. Then she traces a star pattern on the glass.
The star pattern glows where her finger traced it. Luma watches it and smiles.
She rests her chin on her hands and watches the dark turn to soft gold near the horizon.
The ringed planet drifts slowly across the sky again. Luma waves one last time.
The comet's glitter trail lingers like a farewell. Luma whispers, "Goodnight, space."
Luma drifts into her seat. The stars watch over her as the dome hums softly.