A Wisp and the Stars

[Verrin]

Verrin stepped up onto the upper deck, a blast of cool sea air carrying
the wails of a fussy baby.

“I’m sorry if she woke you. She doesn’t like the rough waves.”

Verrin sat next to Willow, flicking his tail in front of Wisp. After a couple of moments her cries fade as she grasped for the reddish brown tail tickling her nose.

“In a time long ago, when the world was young, the sun reigned over all with warmth and light. The sun loved to watch over the world during the day, spreading its golden rays across fields where farmers toiled tirelessly. From dawn till dusk, the farmers worked the land, planting seeds, tending to crops, and harvesting the fruits of their labor. Yet, as much as the sun cherished their hard work, it also longed to experience the tranquility they found in their moments of rest.

Try as it might, the sun could never relax. It couldn’t lie down to sleep like the farmers did after a day’s work, nor could it take leisurely strolls through the fields under the shimmering moonlight. Instead, it burned relentlessly, day in and day out, unable to find peace amidst its duties.

One night, as the sun watched over the sleeping world, it felt an overwhelming sense of longing. It wanted nothing more than to join the farmers in their quiet moments, to feel the cool breeze on its face and the soft grass beneath its feet. In its solitude, tears began to form in the sun’s eyes — tears that were as bright as the sun itself.

As the tears fell from the sun’s face, the moon scattered them across the night sky, each one transforming into a brilliant star. These stars twinkled in the heavens, a testament to the sun’s sorrow and yearning for the simple joys that eluded it. From then on, whenever the sun felt overwhelmed by its responsibilities, it would shed tears that were turned into stars, a reminder of its deep connection to the world below.

The farmers, unaware of the sun’s silent struggle, continued their daily routines under the watchful gaze of the stars. They marveled at the beauty of the night sky, never knowing that each star was a reflection of the sun’s love for their way of life.

And so, the stars became a symbol of both sadness and beauty — a tribute to the sun’s unspoken desire to find solace among the farmers. Every night, as the stars twinkled overhead, they whispered a silent promise to the sun: that even in its tireless vigil, it was never truly alone.”

“That was a beautiful story but…”

Cutting Willow off with his finger to his lips then slowly pointing down to the sleeping Wisp.

“My wife always wanted kids, but I never felt prepared enough for them.”
Verrin whispered as he wiped the tears from his face.
“Sleep well Willow”

[Author]

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