In exchange for the skies, they went to lit the hills. Inside big and small houses, the stars shone. And from our office pantry’s window, I could see them winking back at me, calling me home. My eyes drank in the blend of light and gloomy darkness. For a while, I thought to myself: they’re contented.
I have school-work waiting for me. As final products, it demands a revised written requirement (plus, an oral exam, too). And there’s my day job, screaming endless word-counts. Finally, there’s the laundry and several dusty surfaces faithfully waiting for my hands at home.
If the stars stayed for a long time, would they accompany me in my schoolwork and chores? I couldn’t help but see myself as an ever-bustling Cinderella. And if that were my fairy tale, those stars would probably play as my rodent-friends.
But what would stars do? Can their light, though shadowed by the sun, give me super-powers? Can they cheer me up, and with pompoms, shout: “GO! YOU CAN DO IT”?
Or can they simply enlighten me?
I never knew the answers to these questions.
I looked up at our corrugated roof. There weren’t any single star inside this house. They prefer their blanket-sky after all. Yet, as I turn away, a slanting light caught me. I turned back and had to shield my eyes with my hands momentarily. A light stretched, its ‘end’ reaching for my hands. And…
it warmed me. It didn’t burn, it didn’t hurt. My fingers seemed bewitched and started to play with the light’s end — casting shadows in the room. My eyes, which had quickly adapted to its blaze, slowly rose to trace its source… and there it is! The source of this playful light isn’t a star after all. There was a teeny hole on our roof and it was the moon’s glow that shone and passed through it!
Oddly enough, I didn’t feel disappointed. I went outside to report the roof’s hole to my dad.
Seriously?! If there were visiting stars, they could’ve spared our roof!
Now, it isn’t just me who’s getting real busy here; my dad will have a roof-hole to fix, too!