Wishing well
Someone recognized her and walked up to the table where she sat drinking tea. She smiled for the picture, then returned to the conversation.
The streetlights flickered on, and night, like a curtain, began to rise into the sky.
The stars—almost carefully placed by hand—appeared one by one. She looked up, idly stirring a spoon on the table. Condensation from a glass of water had formed a small puddle, and as she moved it, the stars shifted in the sky above.
She tipped the water so it dripped from the table, one drop at a time. The night sky began to melt along with it.
She stood and walked to the well nearby. With one hand, she pushed the sky back into place.
Inside the bucket, the night sky pooled, holding a few stars. She plucked them out and slipped them into her pocket. Then she lifted the bucket and poured the sky back upward, returning it to the air.
