Under the Stars
A conversation between two people of different ages who meet once and only once.
or
Proof that I actually write
(1.3k words)
The sky was clear; the stars twinkled, and the sun had set only a few minutes before, where an old man and a little girl sat on a bench. They both watched the little flickering lights in the darkness above them, both still marveled at their sight.
It was a summer night, a lonely night, where two people met for the first and last time. One was closer to birth, while the other was closer to death, though none of that mattered to them.
âWhatâs the name of this star?â the young one simply asked. One could say that she saw life more vividly than the man did, but ages donât really matter when seeing life, right?
âI donât know,â the man confessed. He mightâve been old and wise, spent a fulfilled life, but it didnât change the fact that he didnât know everything. His ignorance didnât bother the curious girl too much, although she was disappointed not to learn what the starâs name. Her eyes were wide, trying to see everything during this rare clear night. She couldnât count just yet, but she looked upwards with wonder at how many little glowing dots there were.
âShouldnât you be with your family, in a home, perhaps?â the man asked, worrying for the girl. She looked at him for a moment, taking in the wrinkles and white hair he had.
âNo, my parents are working late.â
At that, the man shook his head gently. He could only help but wonder why her parents werenât home with their daughter. So young, too. They shouldâve spent the evening with her. Was it money? Well, what else could it really be.
âWhat about you?â the child returned.
He sighed. âIâm alone, my wife passed away.â
The ring on his finger gleamed in the pale moonlight. She tilted her head. âDo you have a sister or brother?â
âGone too. What about you?â
âDonât have any. Do you have children?â she continued quickly.
âDrowned. Dead,â he confirmed. Sighing, he lowered his head. All of them were dead. After a moment, he broke the silence with laughter. His shoulders shook as everything quietened and listened to a loud and unashamed laughter.
The girl didnât quite understand death. However, she knew it was sad, not a matter of laughter. She frowned at the man. Was death not that sad after all? Then why did it seem like such a big deal to everyone?
Finally, the manâs laughter receded as he wiped away a tear. He wasnât glad, though he wasnât sorrowful either.
On a whim, the girl asked, âwhatâs death?â
The man pondered her question for a minute.Â
âHow would I know?â He chuckled and watched her sparkling big eyes, âdo you know whatâs life?â
She took a moment to think, then answered, âwell, itâs what weâre living right now.â
The man smiled at her. âThatâs the present.â He gazed at the sky again. âTruthfully, neither of us asked a fair question.â He shifted in his seat, âlife and death are both the same, even though theyâre opposites.â
That didnât answer her question or his question at all, though. âThen what are they?â
âMysteries.â
She crossed her arms, âyouâre joking,â she said, annoyed at how he dodged her questions. Wasnât he supposed to be an adult?
âHey, Iâm old and wise, kid,â he watched the sky, âyou should listen to what the old man has to say, hmm?â
She pouted, but she let it go. He doomed her numerous questions from the start. However, the man wanted to share something with her.
âIâve had a motto I stood by for most of my life: âque sera, seraâ: what happens, happens.â
The frown wasnât leaving her face soon, thatâs for sure. âBut what if I donât want something to happen? Canât I stop it?â
The man breathed deeply, and his shoulders relaxed, preparing himself to disappoint the child. âSometimes, no one can stop itâ
She didnât skip a beat. âWell, I believe anything is possible. If I donât like something, if someone did a mistake or if I did a mistake, Iâll stop the bad consequences from happening,â she stated, sitting up straighter. She didnât know where that came from exactly, but thatâs what she believed. She thought someone she idolized, real or not, would say something like that.
The man raised his eyebrows at her and her confidence. At that moment, he understood how they were different. He had not a single clue how, but he knew her generation would surpass his. It was easy to forget, but humans always evolve, always change. How else would they have had survived?
For once in a long time, his heart filled with warmth, happiness overwhelming his features, forming a tender smile as he studied her. âAnd I believe you,â he declared with a certain pride for her. He couldâve been jealous of her determination, but he didnât have enough time to spend it with his old friend and enemy: regret. To live with regret, one of the worst choices a person could make.
Instead, now, he looked at the stars again. Infinitely beautiful, like eyes he once knew, slowly fading in his memories. âListen,â he told the girl. She asked to what. He replied to just listen and closed his eyes after she did.
After a while, maybe a few minutes, or a few seconds, he whispered, âhear the silence? Isnât calm and pretty?â
âBut there are crickets. And an owl is hoo-hooingâ she responded. The man turned to frown as the girl kept her eyes closed. He hadnât noticed the crickets, nor the owl.
Also, what a funny word: âhoo-hooingâ. From now on, heâd use hoo-hooing instead of hooting. He decided people should say funny words more often when they forgot a word, or just didnât know it.
He thought back to something the girl mentioned a few minutes ago.
âWhat do you think this star is called,â the man asked, pointing skywards. The girl positioned herself to see better. As she focused, her tongue stuck out. She rubbed chin, putting on a show of thinking.
âDavid,â she stated in a very solemn tone.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldnât figure out why she thought it was David. Then he realized there probably wasnât any logic. Honestly, that starâs name might as well have been David since he would never care enough to find the actual name.
âYou know what I find amusing?â the man asked. âItâs that Iâve seen those hundreds of lights for an entire lifetime and still donât know what any of them are named.â Maybe he had known, once upon a time. That time was long gone.
Some people, many people, would have thought he wouldâve acted differently in this situation, with this young girl. How he acted wasnât the right way as much as it felt right in his gut. This girl deserved a better world than the one he knew and lived in. He wouldâve wished on a shooting star if he could.
So, they gave the stars new names as a game. The man came up with one or two names, but let the job heavily rest on the youthâs shoulders. It fascinated him how much imagination could be bundled up in a tiny human being. Joy settled upon him as much as fatigue did nowadays, though it mixed with a twinge of something else. The stars, they were like nostalgia: beautiful, but in the past.
As the girl talked, delight bubbled in her from having someone listen to her so attentively for the first time. People usually waved her off. There was something in the manâs eyes that told her he would listen to her until she finished, even if the world ended before. She thought of more names for the beautiful stars. To her, they were like magic.
Both of them were happy in the end.





















