Salsa Stars

Salsa Stars

A Story by MiracleMoon

Too much glory and praise for too long only sets one up for disaster.


            They loved to tempt me, and I knew it. They danced in their navy velvet sheets and swayed Orion’s hips until dawn, the whistling of tree branches playing as music while the leaves transformed into an orchestra of noise.

            They loved to tempt me, and pretended that they didn’t know it.

            They wanted me to watch them, watch their light bulb eyes glisten with mockery and pride at the fact they had something I wanted. They saw that I was nothing but an animal, a caged being behind the fortress of responsibility and adulthood. They could dance every night without worry while I sat here, watching.

            Maybe the wind was telling me to leave. Trying to indicate that I had no business with these stars, that their laughter would haunt me for years if I remained for another second. It’s a shame I didn’t listen, I was never very good at that. I felt the grip of the wind pull at the corners of my sleeves, trying with one last effort to take me away from these dancing heathens. Come come, be a good girl and leave, you know they speak lies.

            Maybe it’s a good thing that I was stubborn. I stood my ground in the concrete until the soles of my feet were tied into the roots and stems of weeds and decaying flowers. The plants were a neutral force, they didn’t care if I stayed or left " their only importance was counting the hours until the sun would creep over the shy horizon. The wind was powerless to my stance, and it sighed away and left with a sharp whistle. Do as you please, I have no time for persistent trouble makers.

            The Salsa Stars stared overhead, gossiping within themselves as they stared down at my paper crunched face.  You are all so beautiful, and yet so wickedly ugly. 

© 2015 MiracleMoon

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Added on February 24, 2015
Last Updated on February 24, 2015
Tags: stars, resilience, prose



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