The fire crackled. On Jutaire, without oxygen, the fire is different. Fed by different air. Maybe it wishes it were orange, for it sputters and reaches up to the sky with angry fists of blue and purple. It still doesn't know we can't all get what we want.
Hafsah LaziafTags: science-fiction quote science-fiction-romance space-opera ya air lissa unbreathable jutaire
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