As the stars in the galaxies gathered to walk across the universe, he set out on a mission to gather the impossibles. He climbed to the peak of a mountain, opened the lid of a glass jar and braced himself for their arrival.
The aurora of lights danced along as the stars illuminated the night sky. It was like a theatrical performance by the visitors.
“The time is now.”
He held up the jar, felt the force rushing through his hand and at the same time, pushing him away. To his surprise, he caught them all. They ran around the jar in slow shutter speed, in circles. Visible to his naked eyes, the bewildered movement of the stars delighted him.
“They belong to me now,” he said to himself and smirked.
He carried them down to the night forest and brought them back to his home. The carnival of lights kept him occupied that night.
The stars got weaker as the days past. The once-so-glorifying lights started to flicker faintly. He began to panic and hugged them tightly onto his chest.
The glass jar, which was strong enough to hold the stars of the universe, started to crack and the stars began to creep away pixel by pixel through the leaking scars. Unknown to him, the memories of them started to fade away little by little until the jar was empty.
The stars looked back down onto the earth and sang,
We, the little stars
Flicker and pass like a fleeting glance
Bid goodbye to the one who dwells
All in a second by the skies we last
And they vanished.
He looked blankly onto the empty telescope, wondering why it had a scar. But he had no memories of the passing stars, O his lonely heart.