There was a girl who knew the sky. Each night, she sat and waited for moonrise, counting the seconds on her blood-drained knuckles. Tap by tap. When the stars appeared she blessed Orion upon each bony shoulder and whispered her wishes one by one. She let her eyes traverse the milky map, pausing along the way to visit with a little bear or a wounded centaur. As she peered into the depths the bright orbs in her face deepened as well. They shimmered with a luster full of glitter and shine and silence.
She made her excursion night after night, letting herself slip in and out amongst the celestial currents.
She sat on a patch of grass and wandered her star paths, wishing her wishes, deepening her eyes – hardly noticing the dirt that made indents in her ghostly palms.
One night in particular she sat upon her hill and a boy approached her hesitantly.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Swimming the sky,” she replied. She felt a loss as she spoke, and bid the boy to leave her.
This was the night she realized that she was a broken girl.
Shimmering shards of her had been breaking off for years, and the stars she gazed upon were the crushed-diamond remnants of her being.
She turned her moonstone eyes back to the sky and questioned it.
Why have you betrayed me?she begged of it. I have done nothing but love you. I have been kind to your paths and your creatures and yet you have taken from me.
The girl wept for the shine she had lost. But she remained under the astral canopy. She might as well gaze upon the causalities of her soul.
The next night the boy returned. From a distance he looked upon her fragile frame, vertebrate protruding from the white linen of her nightgown, and fell in love with each bone. He memorized the distance between her shoulder blades and watched with joy as they sliced the night air. His eyes appraised the stars he was sure she had glimmering just beneath her skin.
He returned night after night and made his way closer each time.
On the night of the lunar eclipse he sat himself next to her and his cold fingers slowly found hers.
The dark took over and the shine escaped from the moonstones embedded in her face. She turned towards him, her atoms screaming in protest. But his prevailed; his lips found the pink of hers and her carapace lifted.
And the newly returned stars above glittered brighter than ever.
How funny, she thought.
How funny, he thought.
The stars, they shine for us.