By Madigan Thompson

“I’m going to the tail, Papa!” I rush out the door, pole in hand. “I’m sure I’ll catch a star this time!”

“Wait a tick, young lady,” Papa calls after me, hustling to the porch. “Don’t go too far! Oh, Csilla, you forgot your shoes again. Te jó ég, that girl—”

“Let’s go, Curly!” I smile at the little mouse clinging to my shoulder as I bound across the yard. Frost shimmers under my bare feet, frigid and soothing. I vault the fence, landing in the blue world beyond, the sparkling dust of our comet swirling around my nightgown.

Remember, Csilla, when the shard rain comes, a star won’t be too far behind.

I rush over the hill as shards streak in rainbows of light, weaving in and out of the comet’s tail overhead. Pulling flickering silver hair away from my face, I grit my teeth.

I spit in my hands and rub them together. Grasping my vaulting pole like Mama taught me, I lock my eyes onto the shimmering debris leading to the tail. With a running start, I dig my pole into the surface and launch myself. As soon as my foot taps the debris, I leap to the next, then the next, my silver toes send ripples across the space dust.

When I reach the top, I land on a hunk of ice, one of the only safe places to stand on the river of space dust. I suck in a deep breath. The chill of the expanse rushes in, crisp as peppermint, my breath puffing white. The tail shimmers far behind our comet, gleaming white and sapphire, vibrant against the pitch-black heavens. Curly’s whiskers flick at the shard shower streaking above us.

Seizing my pole, I vault from one ice chunk to another, careful not to plummet through the stream of glistening dust. Gravity might pull me home—or I could plunge into the expanse.

Shards whizz around us, skipping across the tail. I snatch two from the air as I go. They fizz in my fingers, warm and bubbly. The scent of strawberries tickles my nose. I hand one to Curly, and she eats away, ears twitching happily. Tossing one in my mouth, the fruity fizz bursts and pops on my tongue.

I’ll find one, Mama! Just you wait! I’ll catch the biggest, best star ever!

Eyes to the expanse, I scan the myriad of colors. Magentas, indigos, emeralds, sapphires… but no gold. I shake my head. There has to be one. There has to be. Did… did I already miss my chance? After all this time—now that she’s….

Sparkling gold streaks over the horizon, rocketing along with the rest of the shards to the end of the tail.

Could it be?

I dig my pole into the ice and vault to the next chunk, nearly clearing our gravity. I can’t lose it! Tears blur my vision, but I force them back. No! I won’t cry over this anymore. I’m too old for that now.

I reach the end of the tail, the last bit of home, the rest of the glittering dust left behind to linger in this galaxy. The golden light zips toward it. I scrub furiously at my eyes, the end of the tail getting closer. Our comet won’t pass through this galaxy again. And then what?

Yes, you catch that star, my little light. I can’t wait to see it.

My arms burn, but I don’t mind. I promised! The golden streak grows closer until I can see the star itself, a pulsing white crystal. Its song rushes over me, deep and crooning, vibrating my bones—a song from the beginning.

I push faster; the star clears the end of the tail. One step, two, then I dig my pole into the last ice chunk and vault with all my might. My fingers curl around the star and—

Its strength jerks me outside our gravity. I float into the expanse, pole slipping from my grasp.

Just be careful not to go too far, little light. I’d rather have you with us than a thousand stars.

No, no!

My insides surge to my throat. I pulse silver, staring into the vast emptiness. It stares back, vacant, colorless. Nothing but the chill.

A tiny paw grabs my finger. I whip my head around. Curly holds on to me, her tail wrapped around my pole, stretched as far as she can go. I draw the star to my chest as Curly jerks my hand back around the pole. The barest bit of gravity draws me onto the ice, sparkling crystals cascading from my hair.

I heave a long, deep breath, leaning against the pole. A song pulses in my lap. I almost jump up. There, in the folds of my nightgown, rests a crystal woven of ice and fire.

I—I caught one. I actually, truly….

I bite my lip. The light caresses my fingers, warm and smooth, like a sip of fragrant tea. It pulses, an ancient heartbeat, a heart-wrenching song filling the heavens. Hugging the star to my chest, the tears finally slip from my eyes, sparkling like star dust. It grows warmer with each beat of my heart, bringing back every memory. The tears flow faster.

“Mama…” I smile shakily, the words catching on the lump in my throat. “Mama. I caught one. I finally caught one.” Rising slowly, I turn my eyes to the expanse, catching a glimpse of the blue sun gleaming so far away yet so close. I hold the star up, and it’s as if her warmth wraps around my shoulders. That embrace I knew once upon a time.

“Go tell her,” I whisper to the star, “that I’m sorry I couldn’t find you before she left.”

I let the star go, and it zips off to the blue sun, singing as it soars.

Viszontlátásra, Mama.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Madigan Thompson is a founding graduate of the Author Conservatory who writes YA folklore-inspired fantasy and science fiction. Her stories center on found family, hope, and perseverance, often exploring the weight of expectations and perfectionism. When she’s not writing, she’s creating artwork, watching anime with her dad, or adding more books—especially by Tolkien, Lewis, and Andrew Peterson—to already overflowing shelves.

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