The Astronomer’s Star

Every night, Clara mapped constellations from her rooftop. One evening, a stranger appeared beside her telescope. "You’ve missed Vega," he said, adjusting the lens. His hands trembled. "I’m Ben. I study dying stars." They talked until dawn about supernovas and solitude. Months later, when Ben received a grant to leave Earth, Clara pressed a note into his palm: "The universe is vast, but you’re my only gravity." He stayed. Under the very stars they’d charted,   

 he whispered, "Some things shine brighter when they don’t burn out