According to time dilation, Corie was thirty-two years old. Her best friend in the universe, Amy? She was dying. The cancer resisted the chemo drugs and, despite stasis, spread like black oil in all the holoimages of Amy’s organs. Stage four. At least there was no pain. The images flashed across Corie’s mind like the Aurora Borealis.
In a sea of long grass and tiny yellow blueberry flowers some ways off of Route 1, just about halfway between Cobscook Bay and Passamaquoddy Bay, the town of Sauve-Majeure puts up its back against the Bald Moose Mountains.