Not even close. The sky was mauve, for one thing, and there were two suns, in a red-gold shade. From Celeste’s viewpoint, the smaller sun appeared to chase the other across the sky, spraying hues of darker purple in its wake. In contrast, the soil was golden and the water—Meridia had a lot of water in the form of lakes, rivers, oceans, and streams—stretched out in placid vats of violet. Coupled with the bright-lime vegetation, it was almost too much to bombard the senses, except the housing was pale gray with slightly darker roofs and the streets and walking paths a soothing taupe. She sucked in a deep breath and tasted freshness and cleanliness with a faint bite of salt. “Isn’t this something.” Shirley was looking about with an expression of awe likely mirrored on Celeste’s face. “It’s quiet. And clean. Manicured yet with a hint of wildness.” “Aren’t you the poet,” her friend teased. “Better than your place on Earth?”
