Starry Story

May 10, 2017
By biancae609 SILVER, San Antonio, Texas
biancae609 SILVER, San Antonio, Texas
5 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"So it goes." - Kurt Vonnegut, "Slaughterhouse-Five"

To the persistent and curious,
In the beginning, God created the heavens and earth, careful to create no particular divide between the ethereal and the substantial - but God, in all His immanent glory, made the mistake of creating the immanent stars, seen by lowly humans; some even found an explanation for their being in the stars. For one night in particular, the stars managed to challenge the ultimate authority of God, allowing the forbidden realm of transcendence to prevail. I would know; I witnessed it.
That night, I had not slept in 8 nights; though for a few hours of every day, God was gracious enough to allow me to fluctuate between consciousness and lucidity. For the hours of the night in which I could only anticipate the forthcoming sleep, my solitude sought solace in the blue of the night. In the stars was where I found it.
Now outside of the comfort and safety of my house, the only security given to me was the sky; the sky could protect me better than the angriest dog in the world. In the corner was a yellow moon, not new, and not old - simply mature. It was a crescent, the most symmetrical I have ever seen. Inside of the crescent moon was a crevice, intended to be filled with the sky’s blue, but all that appeared in the opening was illumination, allowing me to se the rest of the world above me. To the left of the moon were ten stars, some beside it, some below it, and some in no proximity at all. Each star looked like the sun, which was not even the biggest of them all. One star was a white sun, but most were the color of butter and the sound of silence, inaudible in a dignified way. Wind, the most jealous of all elements, weaved itself into the stars, relishing in both my attention and that of the stars. I suspect there were more stars, but a tall tree with black leaves shrouded what might have either been the best of all, or the most disappointing black of nonexistence.
Interrupting me and my solemn thoughts, a man sat beside me. His skin had no pigment and his eyes lacked color. Ironically, the most notable feature of this man was his confusion of the night sky. Knitting his eyebrows together, he asked, “What are those bushels of light floating above your house? Why do they illuminate everything on and above the horizon? God created light to be prevalent during the daytime, and He created night as a time of darkness. Why is night now a time of light?” Perplexed by his intrusion of the world’s order, I replied before more questions could be said. “Those lights are stars. And I like to think God created the stars as a gift for those who cannot retire as one should,” I told him. “God most certainly did not create the stars for that reason,” he scoffed. “Then perhaps the stars put themselves in the sky. Some say the entirety of the world comes not from the hand of God, but the explosion of the ultimate star. I assume the stars protecting us came from the coveted ultimate one if that theory rings true,” I replied. In response, the being beside me became God and challenged the stars before my eyes.
The war between the powers was fought. God, the Ultimate Protector, accused the stars of protecting His people; the stars said nothing. God, the Creator, accused the stars of instilling the belief that humans are merely breathing components of stars; the stars said nothing. God, the Beautiful, accused the stars of being lovelier than He; the stars said nothing. All the retorts that came from the stars, as I saw it, were a pattern of steady respirations, proving their transcendence.
To this day, those who talk about the starry night like to say God never forgave the stars He created. They also say the stars never forgave God for making them as weak as they began, afraid immediately that the stars would prevail over darkness - when would there be a difference between day and night? It seems only I know the truth, having been the selected insomniac to witness the spectacle. I wouldn’t dare to tell the outcome to either soul, evil or angelic, until I see the absolute and definite end of time.
The Witness

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!