Good evening! Today, I have yet again reached into my store of flash fiction to bring to you...

Reaching Stars

They said we couldn’t touch the stars. 

But we never meant to touch them. 

We meant to take them.

We heard the stories as children. We believed them as adults. 

Long ago, placed far above the skies, was a kingdom built on truth and virtue. Its wealth was immeasurable, its beauty unfathomable. A melody of hope overflowed from the hearts of the people and surged as the lifeblood of this great realm. 

But all good things must come to an end. 

Deep within this land of riches, a small seed was sowed by hate and betrayal. Time passed swiftly like an autumn wind, unaware of the evil that it fed. As the seed grew, it stirred the hearts of the people around it. It consumed and left more to be wanted, for this was not a seed of form, but of void. It stole away the life from the melody of hope. As hearts turned dark with discontent, that graceful song stumbled. Treachery spread like cracks across breaking glass and shattered the gem of the skies. The kingdom fell, and the treasure was spilled to the skies below. Now we see those bright jewels winking in the stratosphere above us, far beyond the reach of those who walk earthbound.

But we are not earthbound.

My sister and I have labored for years, creating a vessel that could resist the unconquered control of gravity. Our toil was not in vain, for tonight we bade farewell to the city that we knew so well. 

When the Artist who painted the skies dipped His brush in the waters of nightfall, then did our ship of the air sail to the stars. Those priceless jewels were now within our reach. But even in our flight, my eyes lingered upon the gleam of the city. Remorse streaked the moment with a bitter hue. 

As if sensing my melancholy, Aidlia glanced at me from above. Her eyes gleamed not only with starlight but also with fire from within. 

“Don’t look down.” She pointed up to the star-stained sky. “Look up!”

They said we couldn’t reach the stars.

Perhaps we never will.

But the end is not the journey.

And the goal, not always the prize.

Have a splendid Fourth of July weekend!

~Madelyn