The Planetarium

Nicola did not have leukemia. She grew up, was still alive and possibly happy,. in communicata. I could not think of anything in the museum I really wanted to see, so I walked past it to the planetarium. Inside we sat on wonderfully comfortable seats that were tilted back so that you lay in a sort of hammock. Attention directed to the bowl of the ceiling, which soon turned dark blue with a faint rim of light all around the edge. There was some splendid commanding music. Then a man's voice, an eloquent professional voice, began to speak slowly out of the walls. The voice reminded me a little of the way radio announcers used to describe the