Nixie and the Star That Wouldn’t Listen

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One day, Nixie said to the brightest star — My light is brighter than yours, she huffed. The star twinkled but did not move. That’s not fair, Nixie said. I asked nicely. You should listen. She puffed a tiny smoke ring. It curled into a question mark. Nixie stomped across the Milky Way. Her claws clicked on the silver path. She kicked a cloud of comet dust. It scattered like fireflies. Can you guess what happened next? The dust swirled into shapes. A rabbit. A teacup. A sleeping moon. Nixie stopped stomping. She watched the shapes dance. My light is brighter than yours, she whispered. The star still did not move. Between you and me, Nixie wasn’t really angry at the star. She was angry because no one listened. Not the planets. Not the comets. Not even the wind. She sat on a quiet asteroid. The rocks were warm from the sun. She let her fire breathe out slowly. My light is brighter than yours, she said one last time. Then she closed her eyes. The star twinkled above her. The universe held its breath. Nixie slept. The star kept shining. The shapes kept dancing.

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