Shooting Star

August 30, 2011
By Dcmerrell BRONZE, Sewickley, Pennsylvania
Dcmerrell BRONZE, Sewickley, Pennsylvania
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
To be great is to be misunderstood

Somewhere in the black depths of the endless space, a meteor floats weightlessly. Its uneven surface rotates slowly, the craters casting shadows in every direction from the light of a thousand stars. Dormant it waits until it is time for its turn to seek adventure. Time passes, length unknown for time is relative in the gaping universe, when some divine fingers flick it towards His greatest creation. It still a shapeless ball of gas with infinite potential. The meteor only a negligible part of His eternal plan, yet a great part to one. The meteor flies through galaxies, past undiscovered planets, and around newly formed stars. Its trails of red and blue flickering flames mirroring its excitement to mean something to somebody as it patiently waits, path straight ahead.
3 billion years later, a boy approaching manhood, but clinging desperately to childhood gazes up to the stars like millions have before him. (For when there seems to be no answer on earth, humans always look to the heavens for guidance.) His dirty mosquito bite-ridden arms support his ruffled haired head as he yearns to be somewhere else. The night is perfect like one only seen in a picture or a movie, too cliché for reality. The crickets chirping, the constant, distance dance of the tide, and the crackling of the fire making the symphony of night that has a beat and rhythm none has been able to mirror. Near him lies an unlikely friend he never expected to share such memories with. His dorky glasses and hair, pretentious attitude, and tender feelings were never attributes he sought in a friend, yet there he was, his best friend.
The silence hangs loosely between them moving and shifting like the flickering fireflies around. He looks over to his friend, the fire casting moving shadows on his face, and he sees him too looking up to the night sky. The boy nudges him and points to a bright twinkling star straight above the two gazing down at them. His friend looks and at that instant a trail of light erupts from in front of the star and races down to the horizon. Its pink trail rents the sky in two for a brief second before fading into the darkness once more.
The boy hears his friend gasp as he makes the same recognition as himself, a shooting star. The two glance at each other and for a long second stare back to the sky. The boy wishes for peace, hope, and certainty interwoven with a hundred different silent pleas to the fallen star.. The boy watches the fireflies for a few minutes, their flashing lights giving the boy an unbearable ache as he tears his lingering eyes from them and back to the above. He drifts to sleep with a smile on his face wide with an assurance of things to come.
Somewhere on the earth, a small meteorite sits in the ground shining with joy. Its calling and meaning fulfilled.

The author's comments:
Personal experience at a night of scout camp under the stars.

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