Hollis and the Starpoints — Under the hush-hush moon, Hollis stretched every branch toward a silver spark caught in the dry wash. The sand smelled cool, and pebbles clicked as something tiny came closer. Read the full story →
Under the hush-hush moon, Hollis stretched every branch toward a silver spark caught in the dry wash. The sand smelled cool, and pebbles clicked as something tiny came closer. A black beetle with lantern dots on its back stopped by Hollis’s roots. “Don’t grab the star,” it whispered. “Ask it what it needs.” Hollis had never spoken first to anything from the sky, but he bent one branch down and said, “Are you lost?”
The spark trembled like ice in a cup. “I am too bright for the ground,” it chimed. Hollis felt his bark prickle. He lifted the spark gently, not in his wood, but in the tips of his leaves. Pop-pop-pop! Every leaf point caught a little light, sharp and safe. Ever since, desert trees have worn starpoints so fallen sky-sparks can rest until morning. Next time you find the seven crowns, can you spot where Hollis first dared to hold the hush-hush moonlight?
