Despite the fact that they were indistinguishable from the building she lived in, the eight-year-old had no particular awareness of them – just as she had no real sense of the many apartments within her building, identical to her own. For Cynth, the two towers that completed the three points of the complex’s triangle blended into the overall skyline that constituted the city of Punktown. The multifarious structures of this colony – established by Earth on the world called Oasis – canceled each other out in their sheer profusion, a brain static that she dismissed as the background of her life. She preferred things simple, individual, one-on-one. “Don’t dawdle, Cynthia, you’ll be late to school,” said Mr. Moon. Only he called her Cynthia. “It’s snowing!” she exclaimed as she hitched up her black tights. Snow was a single thing to capture her attention, something she could wrap her head around. Snow muffled the city’s babble, made the too diverse buildings comfortingly homogenous.
