The point is, it didn’t really matter what the book was about. It was what it meant that was important.

“There were stars. They burned my eyes.”

“... And the boy whose hair remained the color of lemons forever.”

“The dangers merged into one. Powder and smoke and the gusty flames. The damaged…”

“Me temo que nada finaliza realmente cuando llega el fin. Los recuerdos permanec…”