Photo Story: Another Earth

Marcus finds a dandelion, its billowy head long gone. What remains is sticky and burnt. He makes a wish anyway. Sunburnt cheeks swell, a raspy breath knocks loose one old seed. We watch it roll away in the dust.

He tells before I remind him not to.

It’s what anyone left below would want—their name called in the draw.

“Where would you go?” I ask to keep him walking.

“Jupiter.”

I scoff. “It’s all gas and never-ending storms.”

He shrugs, “Sounds like home.”

Together we heave the waste bags into the pit, watching them roll away, into the dust.

Photographer: Neal Fowler