Your Uncle, My True Love
The world was truly left behind on the ground.
“Papa,” Ethan said, his voice small but bright with excitement, “when we’re above the clouds, can you see the tower?”
“What tower?” James asked.
“The Eiffel Tower,” Ethan answered solemnly.
Emma smiled. “The tower’s in Paris, sweetheart. We’ll see it later.”
Ethan nodded, accepting the explanation as one accepts the rules of a game. He opened his sketchbook again, drawing a long line for the plane’s body, then a small window. The lower right corner remained blank—he glanced at it briefly, then continued coloring the sky.
Bab Populer