Starstuff.

“Star Stuff” read the label on a box in a closet, hidden behind stacks of other boxes.

She reached for it and opened it. Inside were a telescope, a jar filled with black dust, and a leather journal branded with two initials. She had completely forgotten about it—until that night, a lunar eclipse.

She opened the journal and began to read. Secrets and thoughts from the past, no longer relevant.
Except for one entry.

It was written almost entirely in gibberish, symbols crowded into the margins and a sigil drawn in the corner. The date matched the eclipse.

DO NOT open the jar before midnight, was written in red ink.

Confused, she picked up the jar and examined it. She shook it gently. Nothing happened.

It was nine when she read the warning. She forgot about it soon after, left the jar on her nightstand, and fell asleep.

At midnight, the jar began to glow.

The black dust had turned gold, floating inside like dandelion spores. The light woke her. She grabbed the jar and checked the time—12:01.

Slowly, she opened it.

Following the journal’s instructions, she tried to catch the spores as they escaped. She ran around the room, hands glowing, breath ragged, trying not to miss a single one.

When she finished, she read the words written beneath the sigil. The glow faded—but every heartbeat felt different.

She could feel every spore, every pulse, inside her hands.

When she placed her palms against the wall, flecks of crystal lit up beneath the surface. Then, as if the wall were aluminum foil, it collapsed in her grip.

Terrified, she tried to fix it. There wasn’t much she could do. A jagged hole gaped where the wall had been.

Instinctively, she apologized to the wall and pressed a few loose bricks back into place.

She stared at her hands, shaking them, trying to get the spores out. Nothing changed.

Tiptoeing out of the room—though the danger seemed limited to her hands—she reached for her phone. It shattered instantly.

Still panicking, she took two deep breaths and reached for the coconut on top of the fridge.

Might as well, she thought.