"do you like the moon?"
"I think it's nice. but I love the stars."
"zach?"
"yes?"
"someday, will you look at someone like you look at the stars?"
"if they look as perfect as the stars, of corse."
-
she was skipping down the usual dark, dirt road path. she was clutching a thin marker, and a ziplock bag of cookies. she hopped onto the car and began drawing tiny stars on her face and arms.
"what's that for?"
"I thought that if i looked like the constellations, you would look at me the way you look at the stars."
