Star Dancing

The girl bottled up her throat, and moaned. Half unconscious, she padded up the stair on soft feet, and slipped out her window onto the roof. The ocean breathed its mist on her face, and Meissa fell to her knees.1

In the distance, waves were breaking themselves against the shore, in a sort of worn fury, and the reeds bowed to the wind. Not a gull cried, not a soul clamoured in the fishing market.2

Above her, the stars were blooming. And at last, unable to withhold, she reached up to touch them. A hand clasped hers. It felt to her as if it was wrought of air, or as if moth had lighted her palm, but it was there. She closed her eyes, and before her drifted an ethereal figure, bathed in the cool light of night sky.3

“You’ve come,” she whispered.4

He nodded.5

Upon opening her eyes, Meissa found herself still on the roof. She rose, assisted in her instability by her being, fixed her foot in the air, and took a step up. Within a moment, she had taken wing, and regarded the world diving beneath her. Again, she shut her eyes, in hopes of gazing upon the figure. He stared intently towards the stars and, she realized they were drawing closer to them. 6

A clear voice broke through her thoughts. “Do you see them yet?” her being asked. “They’re dancing.”7

Meissa could not capture words to reply. Each star, each orb of light seemed to manifest a figure like the one bearing her. Younger ones, children they seemed, glowed small and golden, others ancient and sorrowed blazed deep and violet. Pendulating and swaying, alone or together, they seemed to float in a sort of slow breeze, all of them appeared to be dreaming.8

She turned to the one who had borne her here. He offered her his other hand. Barely pondering, she took it. And from then on, they danced, caught up in a silent step with the night, indelibly written into time.9