Her mind sees the world through a series of constellations.
Stories woven into the skies, buried within the stars.
To her the color of the indigo skies taste like pale gold blossoms melting on her tongue.
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She does not know why they roll their eyes when she talks about outer space.
Or why they compliment the stars she paints
yet crush them in their palms when she turns.
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The boy leans towards her.
His eyes are a pale green.
Soft green like crushed matcha tea leaves on a pleasant summer morning.
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He twirls one of her crushed stars in his hand. "You are Leo?"
Was that a question? Or a statement?
He offers her a hand.
"Well, I'm the constellation next to you.
I'm Virgo."
YOU ARE READING
To the Stars
Historia Cortathe boy turns his head and gives her a small, sideways grin. "if they hate stars so much, why not give them a freaking galaxy?" in which a duo of a quirky bright girl and a sarcastic janitor boy vandalize a school with a million stars. ad astra - "t...
