When I was a girl, my mother used to tell me I had shooting stars running through my veins.
That any jolt in my chest or pain down my body was just a star carrying a large, important wish.
It didnt make sense to me, though.
How could a wish be painful?
But I trusted her.
She was my mother after all.
When I was afraid of the dark and looked for comfort,
She would say that I was an eternal light
and that the dark feared me more than I could ever fear it.
And whenever I would ask for something other than health and happiness,
She would instruct me to go outside and look at the night sky.
The vast sea of blackness that held my future, everyone I would ever love, and prosperity in turn for faithful actions.
I was abundant enough, she would say.
Those nights were similar to the one I will have tonight.
I can feel it.
Possibly the beginning of a new novel of mine.