My coat of many colors
That my momma made for me
Made only from rags
But I wore it so proudly
Although we had no money
I was rich as I could be
In my coat of many colors
My momma made for me
So with patches on my britches
Holes in both my shoes
In my coat of many colors
I hurried off to school
Just to find the others laughing
And making fun of me
In my coat of many colors
My momma made for me
And oh I couldn't understand it
For I felt I was rich
And I told them of the love
My momma sewed in every stitch
And I told em all the story
Momma told me while she sewed
And how my coat of many colors
Was worth more than all their clothes
Spica sang along with the soft and soothing music which flodded the whole room as the small music box lay on top of Grandma Vega's coffin.
Stardusts didn't stay too long in a place to keep the secret of their existence safe. As much as possible they avoided making attachments with anyone. Antares and Spica's friendship was allowed because Grandma liked Spica's name.
They spent the whole night for Vega's wake. Few people who knew Vega came to give their condolences. The very next day, Vega was buried beside their ancestors' grave.
After the burial, Procyon, Antares and Spica spent few hours in a coffee shop. Procyon wasn't ready to tell Spica the truth. He was thinking what if she gets mad at him for leaving her mother?
Silence reigned as they drank their coffee.
"Spica, I have something to tell you," Antares started the conversation. Procyon froze in his seat. His heart pounded hardly in his chest.
Spica looked up at Antares with a questioning look but she didn't say any word. Antares held her hand and put a silver watch around her wrist.
"Happy birthday. I should have given you that yesterday but it was not appropriate with the situation that we had."
Spica looked at the watch and smiled sweetly at Antares. "I thought you forgot."
"How could I forget my bestfriend's 18th birthday? You're a woman now. You should stop cussing and do stuff woman does. But I'd be happier if you stay the way I had you. Just a bit of maturity would be enough." Antares winked at her.
Procyon's eyes grew wide. It was another confirmation that Spica really was the eighteenth beholder. As always, on the eighteenth birthday of the beholder, the previous owner dies.
"Eighteenth," Procyon uttered.
"Yeah. I'm eighteen years old," Spica answered. "Thank you so much, Ares," she added.
YOU ARE READING
STARDUST
FantasiSirius, the brightest star fell on Earth as he wished to have a mortal life. Luckily, he got to marry the woman who helped him as he wandered into his new home. As he was granted his wish, he was also granted a gift which would be passed on unto his...