"She had lost her grasp in reality
the moment she had met him"
He held me up and laced his fingers with mine. I felt a spark—a tinge—between our grasps and in that moment, I didn't want it to fade.
"Catch the stars" he said and I held my hand to the horizon and closed it, hoping I would catch one. Then, I opened it.
A small sea of stars and constellations were resting on my hand. I chuckled in amusement. He swoop the stars from my hand and to his arms. In one movement, he throws them to the sky and the stars were back; in their homes, asleep, being beautiful.
When he turned his head to me with a small smile on his face, I knew, he is the boy who puts the stars in the sky.
YOU ARE READING
The Boy Who Puts the Stars in the Sky
Short Story"You are the stars in my eyes and the blood in my veins, the roar of the thunder and the calm of the rain. But how could I forget you painted the stars into the sky?"
