Stars

The day I looked at stars wasn't anything special. I was just minding my own business, thinking about money, sex and stuff, when it happend. I was blinded for a second and everything stopped, just to start again, rejuvenated. It came as a memory of a moment in time, long ago.

I was sitting in my bed in the middle of that first real spring day when everything ended. She has just left and I deleted her number from my phone, canceling her existence. I was not sad, but numb.

The sun coming thru the blinds was lines of burning fire, tattooing my wall. From under the covers I could see the dust lighting up and dissapearing as it flew chaotically throughout the sun captured in my room. Everything else was quiet until a fly came out of nowhere and started to buzz around the room. I followed it with my eyes on the couch, then on the monitor. It just stood there, contemplating the surface in a way I never cared.

That's when I threw the pillow at it. I wanted it moving, alive, not another petriefed object in my room. The monitor fell on the floor seemingly cracking from the noise it made. I didn't care, I was following the fly on its path when something wonderous happend. It went into the sun, immediately illuminated as it burned, as it transformed into something miraculous: a firefly. Then, after what seemed like minutes, it landed near my bed, on the table. I looked at its body, now the milky black of a normal fly and wondered where all its magic dissapeared and why is it so easy to lose it all.

I slowly took my book and in one fast, final motion, crushed the insect. It left a disgusting stain on the brown wood of the table as a testament of its existence. I had to kill it, it just didn't deserve to exist anymore as it was.

That day the stars showed me what I could be, if only I could see more, if only I tried more. I knew right then that I had to get home fast, and do what was only right. I now could see myself in my true colours. And I was ugly.