A woman and her child stepped out into the cool evening air, onto the front porch of the small farmhouse. They sat on a step and gazed up at the stars. The woman leaned forward and propped her chin in her hands.
The little girl looked up at her mother and said solemnly, “Mommy, I miss daddy.”
“I know, Rachael” Cindy Tinney said. “I do, too. I do too.” She stroked the back of Rachael’s hair, and the familiar sadness briefly flowed through her. “But I’ll just bet he’s watching us right now, seeing just how cute you are! And I’ll just bet -”
“Mommy, what kind of star is that?” Rachael pointed up and to the left.
Cindy stared up at the bright star hanging in the darkened sky. It did not hang among the other stars, for it looked much too close. Its light shot out in bright spikes, the largest, brightest object in the sky. “I don’t know,” she said slowly.
Its intensity caught her gaze hypnotically as it began to move. At first, she thought it a trick of her eyes; she looked over at another set of dimmer stars, and where the star was in accordance to them.
The shining star that hung far above a tree-line about fifty yards away (the star was not nearly as close) began to descend, slowly but evidently. It went lower than the stars she had been judging its height with, and she was flabbergasted. (more…)