I was up in the night, driven from my bed by a need for water. I went all the way upstairs to the kitchen in search of a tall glass for drinking and a cool cloth. It seemed that if I laid the cloth over my forehead it would help to quench my thirst. Through the kitchen window I noticed a star in the sky and when I looked closer I saw another. Standing very still and squinting my eyes just enough, I found I could see more. It takes a reasoned faith to believe we sleep under nearly the same sky in Seattle and in Two Dot where the stars are so bright they penetrate our eyelids. But here in the city, with empty water glass in hand and before the cool cloth touched my forehead I’d seen them, ten bright stars shinning through a haze of urban lights. I counted those ten stars twice before going back downstairs to bed where I held their memory in place with the coolness of a cloth to the eyes.