Under the Dome

“Hello, Nick? Julia here. We sat together in astronomy class.”

“Good lord. Fifty years. How’d you find me?”

“Easy. You’re all over Google. I’ve thought of you often. How’s life?”

“Unh, Ohhh-kay.” Silence. “You?”

“Wonderful. But I never forgot your ‘dome,’ your explanation for leaving town: ‘The invisible dome above here blocks everything new and interesting.’ I couldn’t agree.”

They chat cordially, hang up. For weeks it sticks with Nick. Julia was so composed, so positive. Maybe life under her dome offered something.

“Hello, Julia?”

“Who’s this? I’m Julia’s son. Mom was very ill many months. She died last week.”