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Sitting in the chair staring at the night sky was a woman. She sat with a smile on her face, bitter sweet in its baring. The stars twinkled gently in the void on that cloudless hour. The crackle of a fire gently breaking near by as it is stoked by a young child. The child looks up to their elder, “Grandma?” the child asked.
The Grandmother looked down at the child after a brief moment that smile never leaving her lips, “What is it?”
The child poked the fire once more thinking quietly. They didn’t really have any specific question in mind for her, just looking for a little attention in the lonesome quiet of the night. “Umm…. What were you thinking about?” The child smiles with their simple but effective escape.
The Grandmother chuckles looking back at the stars for a moment, “Oh, a lot of things… but I suppose that’s not a very good answer now is it?”
The Child purses their lips before nodding agreeing with the grown up.
The Grandmother continues, “Well I guess the thing I was thinking about the most was the stars and how they each tell a story.” She then points out to a group of them in the vague shape of a pot, “That’s the big dipper, but it’s part of Ursa Major.” The child looks on no longer poking the fire, that quizzical curious look of innocent youth.
The Grandmother moves her hand across the sky pointing at another cluster, “That’s Ursa Minor.” The kid watching the sky interjects, “What’s their story then?” The Grandmother chides the child, “Hold on I’m getting to it, a little patience.”
She leans back in her chair, “Ursa Major was once a woman who caught the eye of an ancient god, but the gods wife was a jealous type and to end the potential affair she turned her into a bear.” The child snickered, “But Bears are so big and cool!” The Grandmother smiled, “That they are, their also very protective of their cubs.” The child perked up, “Oh oh oh, is Ursa Minor the bear ladies kid?”
The Grandmother nods in response, “Sharp as ever. Yes Ursa Minor was Ursa Majors child before she was turned into a bear. The Child one day found his mother now a bear but didn’t recognize her. He was a hunter and seeing a bear saw a way to make a name for himself. However the God that took a fancy to Ursa Major saved her life turning her child into a bear as well, and to prevent a similar event from happening again immortalized them in the heavens by turning them into stars.”
The Child nodded along with this but looked confused, “So why didn’t he do that in the first place after she became a bear?”
The Grandmother thought on that for a bit, “You know I don’t really know, it’s an old story to explain the shape that stars took, but it’s only one of many.”
The Child smiled, “Oh! Then what’s that group of stars?”
And so stories were told, one by one the constellations were explored and the child was engrossed with the experience learning new story after new story.
A man sits in a chair in a sterile room, walls covered in plaster, a Television quietly playing white-noise in the background. On a bed lay an Elderly woman, her eyes that once held a radiant sparkle, full of kindness and wit are now dull. Even still they hold a sweetness intrinsic to her being.
Nearby a window lies open the blinds pulled to the side, the night sky hard to see through the light of the room. Yet both can still see the stars. The Stars hold many stories, many a dream and hope. The Man has a bitter sweet smile as he looks at them.
The Older woman looks at the man and sees a boy. Tears streaming down their eyes. He looks to the sky and yet can not find the one constellation he wanted to.
The stars had gone out, their light finally no longer reaching the world.
Their story gone, he turned to the old lady as he fiddled with the remote to the TV, and choked out a question, “So… What are you thinking about?”
The Old lady pauses for a moment, “Oh… A lot of things… but I guess I was thinking about the stars.”
He nods, “So was I.”
She looks at him, “I was thinking about the stories they tell…”
He chokes back some tears, she can’t see them all she sees is a young boy staring wide eyed across a fireplace, “You don’t say? Go on then, what’s their story?” he says with that bitter sweat smile doing his best not to break down.
The Old woman sits up a bit looking out at the sky, she can’t see to well any more and the radiance of the city makes it hard to tell where things are, but she points just as she once did to
where the big dipper once was, “I believe that those are the big dipper, which is part of Ursa Major…”
And so the stories repeat.
The stars may be gone.
Her memory may be fading.
Her life may be slipping.
But the love of a story remains, and the honesty of feeling endures.
The man breaks down and cries, holding his grandmother close.
She sits their confused for a moment before embracing him back.
They stay that way for what seems an eternity.
Finally the man pulls back, “I love you Grandma.”
She knew that.
She always knew that.
It was the one thing she couldn’t forget.
That he and everyone else wouldn’t let her forget.
That she was loved by all the people she touched.
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This is a beautiful story. Thank you for it.
ReplyGreat imagination for a story telling but eons away from actual reality. Good reading
Reply