Ephemeral.

Some nights turned into most nights, and, soon enough, she was spending them lying in bed, gazing upon our constellations on the ceiling, her bright but tired eyes peeking from beneath the blanket. The glow of a flashlight shone through the cracks, and I spotted a book on her knees, a tiny finger trailing along the pages. Placing the paper in front of the flashlight, I pointed it toward the ceiling. [Extracted from the article]