The door marked Star opens and I see:
A king-size bed sits on a large stage. Twinkling stars create its backdrop. On the bed sits Booth in a pair of white boxer-briefs. His head is lowered and he looks as if he’s praying. His elbows are bent and his palms are flush under his chin. The stars stop twinkling, flash again, stop. The stage begins to shake, including the bed. Stops. Booth stands and points at me with both index fingers. He says something about needing and wanting me. He tells me that he misses me and that he enjoys my company. He brushes one hand through his hair, now the other. The stars in the room begin to twinkle again, stop, twinkle again. The bed and stage begin to shake again and…Booth vanishes from the bed. He’s gone. Poof. Here one second. Gone the next. The room goes
