Just a night sky. A galaxy full of stars that seemed to wink knowingly at Lucas.
What were their secrets? What knowledge did they conceal in their calming, vague brightness?
These questions were so intriguing to the young boy, the answer constantly teasing him, always jumping away at his every lunge and grasp for it at the last moment.
Lucas heard gentle footsteps, the odd leaf crunching, giving his father away.
Of course, the boy thought, finally finding a method for answers, a way to satisfy his ever-present insatiable thirst for knowledge.
“Father, tell me about the stars.”
The man sat down next to his son on the cool grass, the green blades almost caressing them, embracing their presence.
“Well, Lucas, what do you think the stars are?”
Lucas looked back up at the everlasting convex, littered with beautiful, aweing things. They seemed to arc over their midnight-blue background, some alone and independent, other flocking together like metal and magnets. “I think that they are wonderful.”
Lucas’ father murmured something unclear in agreement, the boy’s ears not prepared for his uncharacteristic quietness.
Lucas pointed to the glowing-white circle, the only obvious light source in the night sky. “Then what about the moon, Father? Why does it shine so bright?”
The man humoured his son’s keen interest, answering, “Because of the sun.”
Lucas jumped up in protest, deep creases in his forehead. “But that’s not possible! The sun’s not out! How, Father, how?”
“I don’t really know—age has stolen my knowledge away,” the man sighed, reluctantly admitting his many years. He looked at the boy, smiling at his eyes as they twinkled from his curiosity. “Promise me that you’ll ever forget.”
“That you’ll always be my sun.”
And Lucas grinned, nodding, the light in his eyes burning a little brighter.
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